


Jazz and Artillery

by olivediz03



Category: Original Work
Genre: 1950s, 1950s Slang, Cigarette Smoking, Cold War, Comedy, Drinking, F/M, Gun Violence, Heterochromia, Other, Romance, Slow Burn, Spies & Secret Agents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-01-26 14:28:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 39,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21375622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olivediz03/pseuds/olivediz03
Summary: Tobias Fletcher here! A young 22-year-old man, living in Harlem, New York 1952. Jobs aren't easy to come by these days. The Cold War doesn't help exactly much. The young man searches to and fro and eventually lands a job as an event planner's receptionist. A world of bustling blues, distrust, romance, and an interesting turn of events. Tobias will soon realize that this job lands him on the wrong end of the gun more times than not, and the people he works with aren't even surprised.
Relationships: OC X OC
Kudos: 2





	1. Tobias Fletcher, Here! (Prologue)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!!!  
This is my first story through this platform. I hope you all enjoy!! Let me know if any of the translations are wrong, so I can correct em' ;) Writing tips are always appreciated!! I also created a playlist to go with it!! Highly recommend listening along with the story https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4toIcm2VpKUJXFVclHsNgg?si=ZzYTudrBTCeP1bOZBYbw_w

Light filtered into the cold and spacious room. 

Ooh a monologue! Ok, I don’t have a whole lot of time to catch you up on things before we get all _third person_ here. I guess you should get to know the beautiful voice you are trying to imagine. Perhaps you imagine an old man’s gruff voice, or a soft and light voice of a young woman? You’d be wrong on both accounts then. A raucous and boyish voice of a 22-year-old young man would be it. Very charming, if I say so myself~ 

The name’s Tobias Fletcher! It is currently November 8, 1952, and bitterly cold. The cold was never my thing, and I fear I’ll never get used to the astronomically freezing weather, which was Harlem, New York. Ah, there it is, if you’re imagining a New Yorker accent, then you’d be right! Good job, detective! Moving on, this _ is _a monologue after all. Harlem is an excellent place to live if you want to stay out of the way of trouble, but it isn’t exactly ideal if you want to make friends easily. People around here keep to themselves rather closely and suspect everyone of criminal activity. As you can probably guess, trust isn’t a common trait that is passed down here often. Not even a gentle southern gal would need to think twice to ignore when a stranger greets her good morning anymore, not since the war. 

Everyone is treated guilty before proven innocent rather than innocent until proven guilty. America moved into a Cold War era straight after the Great War, and everyone was eyeing people suspiciously. If you breathed the word _ Russian, _you were practically sentenced to death in this country. Spies were constantly being traded back and forth, and corruptions were being exposed in a way that changed many citizen’s perspectives of the government in general. Unemployment rates were getting better, but not fast enough. 

More women were working, which was a good thing to me despite most men’s feelings on the topic, but big industries had taken advantage of it ravenously. Advertisements of shiny legs and bright red lipstick at every diner and showing off the stunning blonde beauties through the windows to attract young military boys to the restaurants. Women were getting hired more often at all the shops and restaurants for the purpose of eye candy. As a young man, getting a job that wasn’t in the military was difficult. Politics weren’t a favorite topic of mine, so I stayed away from anything that had to do with our currently corrupt government. 

Vets would shake their tin cups on the streets because the government tricked them into thinking there would be some sort of compensation for their services. Children would hold up pictures in the streets of missing parents, stains of old tears on their little rosy cheeks. I at least had a place to call home. Many were orphaned or lost everything due to the Great War, and I’d be considered one of the ‘lucky ones’.

More about me? Oh,_ you~ _ always asking questions. 

I am an orphan due to my father never returning and being presumed dead from the war. My mother died while giving birth to my little sister, Nancy, while my father was deployed. I do not blame her of course; I was 15 at the time. My mother was thankful that I was never drafted in like the other boys were. 

_ I don’t think my heart could take it _ she would smile sadly, and I would watch as the other boys wouldn’t return home from their families. I knew war would ruin me, but I felt helpless at the time. I wanted so badly to do _ something! _My godparents weren’t so lucky since their son, Marco Capaldi, never returned home. They were strong, but I knew how much it hurt them when it happened. 

The Capaldis were gracious enough to take me and Nancy in after the death of my young mother. Mr. Capaldi was an elderly man that was overly into politics, much to my own chagrin. Despite his blunt delivery, but you could always tell how much he cared about me and Nancy. He never smiled much, and _ I love you _wasn’t his special phrase, but a punch on the shoulder or teasing nature about him showed how much he felt about ya. He is a baker, just like his wife, but don’t let that profession fool you. He used to be a boxer back in the day, and his reputation has prevented the little shop from burglary for years. Every now and then, some young punk will try and smuggle some fresh bread or a nice pastry. Mr. Capaldi is always right on it to make sure that the kid doesn’t make the same mistake twice. 

Mrs. Capaldi is a stark contrast from her husband. She is everything anyone would want in a traditional Italian _ Nonna, _ and I swear the older woman can bake practically _ Anything! _ I am eternally grateful for her gentle, but firm, nature. Luckily, Nancy never had to experience the harshness of war. I remember trying to go back to eating normal portions, and throwing it back up because my body wasn’t used to it. Mrs. Capaldi was always there as a shoulder to cry on and would gently rub circles on my back as I vomited my meals out into the bathroom. She would whisper encouraging things in my ear and bring me a glass of water. Mrs. Capaldi was the only one that was _ there _for me during the aftermath. My situation wasn’t nearly uncommon, and many in the neighborhood were in a worse state than I. 

The Capaldis had another son, Lucardo Capaldi. A tall, dark, and handsome young man of 19. Lucardo always had an air of haughtiness and spent most of his days out among the ‘people’ he’d say. He, unlike his parents, was more threatened by me than anything. As if I was taking his brother Marco’s place. Because of that impression, he treated me like an enemy. I never felt threatened by him, though. I understood that he also lost a lot during those harsh years. Despite his on-edge persona, I cared about the young guy. He is kind of like a little brother to me, and I think Lucardo accepts it a lot more now than he used to. 

Alright, I think I’ve captured enough of your time, haha. You wanna get to the good stuff, right? Well prepare yourself, this story may not go where you think it may. Friends, loves, enemies, all that good stuff! But I won’t spoil it, you’ll just have to see for yourself, _ darl _ _ ! _ Enjoy, and like the Cold War, trust _ no one. _


	2. Job Hunting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tobias Fletcher seeks job advice from his Blues Club friends, Marcus Jackson and Winnie Black. Will the job he finds be a blessing or a curse? Perhaps both?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh I split the first chapter into a Prologue and chapter 1. So this is technically the REAL chapter one. Hope you enjoy! My best friend has helped so much with editing!! I suggest listening to the playlist along with it!
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4toIcm2VpKUJXFVclHsNgg?si=9LRzzOgISnyml9nL-IwE9w

_Yawn _

A large, and unattractive, popping sound could be heard, as a young man cracks his back. He is in a cold and dusty attic space. Light filters through the two windows, showing off the unkempt look of it. 

_‘I wish I lived in the south.’_ he grumbles at the thought. Winters were never his favorite, so New York will never be his true home, he fears. The room is hardly insulated, being an attic, so keeping things cool or warm is a mere fantasy. 

Fresh morning light dances across the dim room. Boxes of old Tupperware and Christmas decorations lay in stacks in the right corner. His bed is a simple cot on the floor. Next to it lay a little stack of books to create a makeshift ‘shelf’ in loose terms. An old dresser is his new one. Underneath the bottom right drawer, a chewed-up hole can be spotted. Apparently, a rat had lived in it for some time before eventually dying out. Tobias avoids the drawer now. 

The walls must have been white at some point. Now, they have a yellowish hue to them, which thankfully toned down the ghastly looking wallpaper. Wallpaper is a trend that Tobias cannot understand. Everything is a pattern, and this wallpaper was no exception. The pattern had to be an overly detailed depiction of a golden carousel. Pudgy little children with flushed faces ride the carousel, mouths open in absolute joy. They are bundled up to their necks to depict the season they are in. One might say_ 'Ok sure, it is ugly, but what’s the big deal?_ 'And he would agree, if it weren’t for the terrifying mistake that the wallpaper makers made. Tobias had zero clue how wallpaper was made, but the print on it made the children’s eyes glint red like some demon possessed monster. He wasn’t a very superstitious person but waking up from a bad dream only to be comforted by a bunch of carnival demon children didn’t help when you sleep in a cold attic. 

He gets up, arms above his head and makes a slight gasp as his shoulders crack. He rolls them in satisfaction as he goes to the drawer to pick out today’s clothes. Opening the top left drawer, he picks out a plain white T-shirt and baggy black pants. Tobias was never a _hot-rodder_, by any means, but the Capaldis’ son Marco was once into the style. So, Tobias was stuck wearing a hand-me-down play-boy style that he was never into. It didn’t depict his personality at all, but the Capaldis already worried about enough. They had willingly taken Tobias and Nancy in, without hesitation. Feeding them and providing a future was an uncommon luxury. Tobias made his way to the mirror, in the middle of hiking of the baggy pants. 

The most striking feature of Mr. Fletcher is his two-toned eyes. _Heterochromia_ is a very uncommon trait that his mother happened passed down to him and Nancy. His left iris is almost black, and the right is piercing ice blue. Tobias is very boyish and mischievous, with his messy dark brown hair that has always been unpredictable. His hair gave him a mad scientist appearance that was opposite of the slick-back greaser style that girls swoon over. He had a gaunt appearance and a gap-toothed grin that Mrs. Capaldi deemed charming. Sadly, his lop-sided smile received nothing but annoyance from those he shared it with. Tobias was average in height and incredibly slim for someone of his age. He always had a thinner and lankier build, never revealing hope for a more masculine appearance. Many would say that he would grow into it, but that time never came. Tobias didn’t care though; he never did. 

After combing a few hairs in place, he made his way to the infamous trap-door contraption which was his way downstairs. Unfortunately, whoever built the attic didn’t expect someone to live up there, so the entrance was smack-down in the middle of the hallway. So, when the ladder came crashing down, Tobias swore he could see the soul leave poor Lucardo’s body as he released a quick yelp of surprise. 

“_What the f-_!..Francis...Good morning Momma!” Lucardo’s Italian New Yorker accented words choked out as he spotted Mrs. Capaldi enter the hallway, freshly cooked bacon on a platter, and raised eyebrow in Lucardo’s direction. She was clutching her silver crucifix, and Tobias imagined that she was envisioning every possible way to give him a good smacking. Tobias slid down the ladder smoothly and landing with a little hop next to Lucardo. He gave him an embarrassed and apologetic lop-sided grin, but Lucardo just shot him a glare in return. The young Italian stomped off to get dressed for the day. He turns his head to meet the eyes of the now annoyed Mrs. Capaldi. She just grunted amusingly in response. The short elderly woman made her way towards the young man. 

“You know, _Il mio amore_, you should at least warn someone before you hit them with ladders.” She chuckled and ruffled my already messy hair affectionately. Warmth bloomed in his chest at the familiar Italian words that always brought comfort to him when he missed his parents. A sheepish smile spread across his features, but mischievous glint lingered in the young man’s eyes. 

“_Mi dispiace_, Mrs. Capaldi.” He apologizes in her mother tongue, but she just shakes her head and tuts in mock disapproval. Tobias can see a moment later that a small grin threatens to tug at the corners of the older woman’s lips. Mrs. Capaldi’s warm brown eyes crinkle a tad as she notices the young man eyeing the bacon ravenously. Tobias chews on his lip as his stomach makes a very audible growl. At the noise, his face reddens several shades. Mrs. Capaldi giggles. 

“Wash up first, and then you can have some.” She sighs good-naturedly, as she wanders back to the kitchen. But Tobias whips past her before she can finish the sentence, and she mutters _Boys_. 

Tobias makes his way down the flower wallpaper hallway and makes a right into the bathroom. Dark, but clean, wooden floors creak and squeak along the way. He makes sure to thoroughly wash his hands before making his way to the kitchen, but he hears a faint _clip clop_ coming down the steps leading to the top floor. A devilish grin graces the young man’s features as he rushes to the side of the steps, making sure he’s fully concealed. His breathing instantly turns quiet, making sure to be still. Lucardo passes by him, so he places a quick finger to his lips and moves his eyes to gesture to the steps. Lucardo just rolls his eyes and huffs, grabbing a piece of toast and exiting the house to do who-knows-what. Finally, the small figure of a 7-year-old girl plopped on the dark wood floors.

'_Now’s my_ _chance'_ he chuckles to himself. He jumps out from his hiding spot making a loud “_Boo!_” sound, and wraps both arms around the little girl, swinging her in a circle. Mrs. Capaldi can be heard from the kitchen telling the siblings to hush. 

Nancy, Tobias’s little sister, shrieks in terror before muffling it into a soft yelp. Tobias breaks out into a maniacal laugh, arms still wrapped around his baby sister. Nancy shoves out of his grasp. Her older brother is now holding onto his chest to prevent himself from falling over in amusement. Nancy crosses her arms, blonde hair shielding her face. Tobias can see the bright red on her neck, though. 

“Good morning, _sunshine_!” He expresses it in a sing-song manner, grinning and exposing that ‘charming’ gap-toothed grin. Nancy’s arms are still crossed over her chest. The similar shade of her dress accentuating the pink hue of her cheeks at her growing embarrassment. 

“You jerk, you scared me!” She finally squeaks out, still hiding her face. Her pout makes the mischievous brother’s smile falter slightly, and he gets down to her level. 

“Hey, Nanc, I’m sorry, I was trying to be funny.” Tobias tries to console, and his sister finally gives in. Her brother laughs in relief as he sees the embarrassed smile bloom on her heart-shaped face. They exchange an understanding look. Nancy’s eyes match her brother’s, but everything else about them is completely different. Other than the difference of their hair color, Nancy is a very reserved and gentle spirit, whereas her brother is a more _chaotic_ kind. They balance off each other well enough, though. No matter what happens, the two have always been there for one another.The smell of breakfast breaks the child out of her reverie. 

“Did Mom make breakfast?” The child asks excitedly. Nancy always referred to the elderly couple as her parents since she never met her father and was a baby when their mother died. Tobias could never bring himself to. 

“Yes indeed, girlie! You better get there fast, before I eat it all myself!” he teases, and watches a terrified expression overcome her rounded face and she scrambles quickly to the kitchen, Tobias trailing behind. 

Mr. Capaldi is already in his spot at the tan wooden round table. He lifts his mug to sip his black coffee, turning his newspaper and grumbling. He was very similar in build as his wife, shorter and stouter. His hair was a silvery grey, whereas his wife had a frosted white do. “_Hound Dog_” by Elvis is playing through the staticky kitchen radio. Tobias makes his way toward the plate of food, snatching a few sausages and pieces of bacon. Little Nancy noticed, so he flashes her a wink and smuggles her a few as well. Nancy giggles in response, but hushes immediately at the disapproving frown she receives from Mrs. Capaldi. Nancy quickly whispers a prayer before continuing, waiting for the nod of approval that she can eat. 

“Ay, could ya pass the syrup?” Mr. Capaldi asks, as Tobias wordlessly passes it along, lost in thought. “Look up, Il mio ragazzo.” He gives Tobias’ shoulder a quick nudge, breaking him out of his reverie. The lanky boy looks over and sees the concern on the hard man’s face. It almost touches him. “What’s wrong, Fletch?” He asks, using the nickname he’s used ever since the boy arrived here 7 years ago. Nancy, using the opportunity of not being watched and pours an obscene amount of syrup on her pancakes. Tobias meets the gaze of the older man. 

“Getting a job’s been tough,” he sighs “None of the diners are hiring, and I need to get a move on. I am an _adult,_ so shouldn’t I _know_ how to do these things?” Tobias asks innocently. The old man thinks for a moment. 

“Have you tried the _24/7 Blues Club_?” Mrs. Capaldi, flipping an egg, asks thoughtfully. The boy shakes his head. 

“They’re not hiring.” 

“I’m not asking about hiring.” She has her hand held up and looks at the young man as if he’ll understand the direction she’s going. Unfortunately for her, Tobias needs descriptions in painfully blunt terms to understand. He tilts his head, confirming these facts. Mrs. Capaldi, fingers now on the bridge of her nose, continues, “You have friends there, don’t you?” He nods along, still not getting it. “So, ask them for recommendations.” The elderly woman finishes. The lightbulb finally clicks, and Tobias animatedly rises from his seat, grinning childishly. 

“Genius!” He shouts, smacking his palm against his forehead. “Why didn’t I think of that?” Everyone collectively rolls their eyes, but Tobias doesn’t notice. He rushes out the door, tripping over his own feet, and shrugging his black leather jacket on his shoulders. Everyone in the kitchen releases a sigh of frustration. 

~~~~

Tobias rushes out the door, almost knocking over the milkman, who yells many crude words in response. Tobias apologizes as he goes along, grin still visible on his face. He practically dances down the street, swinging on poles, cold breeze hitting his face causing his cheeks to flush. He scares some pigeons along the way, but he doesn’t care. Many of the rich people visiting Harlem flash dirty looks in the boy’s direction, but he doesn’t notice. Trees are full of fall colors: red, orange, yellow. Birds chirping, hopefully, meaningful things to one another. 

As he’s walking, Tobias passes by a small homeless boy. The boy is holding up a photo of a middle-aged man, presumably his father. The sight breaks the young man’s heart as he makes eye contact with a little child, wearing a grey page boy hat. 

_‘That could have been me,’_ Tobias thinks sadly and ruffles through his coat pocket, dropping the remaining coins in the little cup. The little boy’s face lights up, and thanks him gratefully.. Tobias smiles in response and give a brisk nod, and the little boy tips his hat gratefully in return. _‘Good.’_ Tobias thought. _‘At least I can brighten someone’s day.’ _

As Tobias is walking, he can smell the familiar scent of mistakes and booze. The_ 24/7 Blues Club_ stood there in all her wonderful glory. The club has lasted through the Great Depression ever since it was revived by a different owner. Many a military man could be seen, face blushed from the alcohol, and singing along to some cool blues. The walls were covered in the signatures of past celebrities, and wood panels adorned the lower half. A grand stage stood in the very center with a velvety blue curtain that leads to the backstage. A mic and stand are propped in the very center of the half cat-walk stage, allowing you to imagine the possible gigs in the joint. Spread behind the catwalk, a double bass, trumpets, tubas, a grand piano, and saxophones are displayed across the grand stage.. The_ 24/7 Blue_ _Club_ used to be the prime of its time in Harlem when it first opened. Many come for the memories, some come for the good drinks, the rest come for a one-night-stand. 

Tobias stands at the entrance, and he is hoping to find the answer to his job problem. Pushing open the door, it gives a little jingle. The smell of last night’s alcohol and smoke hits strong, but that was the least of his worries. The jingle of the bell alerts the sly young 25-year-old- man on stage. The tall figure turns his head, a shock of white blonde hair swishing slightly, skinny long cigarette in hand. 

“Mr. Fletcher! What’s_ buzzin’_, cousin?” The well renown Marcus Jackson purrs excitedly. In response, Tobias smirks giving a little wave. Marcus is the least subtle man in all of Harlem. He’s bold in the most uncomfortable, yet intriguing, way possible. He wore a dark button-down shirt that was unbuttoned a touch too low for a gentleman. Marcus wasn’t considered a modest man. His frosty blond hair stylishly covered his right eye. The eye you did see was a deep and dark blue. A beauty mole was right above the left side of his lip, and his skinny cigarette creates an elusive aura. Marcus places an arm around my Tobias’, and he laughs nervously in response. 

“Marcus! How goes it?” the young man converses, unlatching the slightly older boy’s arm swiftly. Marcus just gives him an amused expression, blowing smoke in my face. 

“Ah you know, same as usual. Same crowd, don’t attract the same attention like the_ good ol’ days,_ y’know?” Marcus sighs, taking another draw from his cigarette. Just then, a very beautiful young black woman comes in and snatches the cigarette causing a grumble from the former. 

“Ya _know _full well the boss hates when ya smoke on the job when you’re not on break.” The woman, with a perfect southern draw, warns with her arms crossed, snatching and discarding the cigarette in a nearby trash-can. Marcus whines in response. 

“Aw _come on_, Winnie! You coulda' let a man finish it first, sweetheart.” But she ignores him and glances to Tobias instead. 

“How ya doin’, Tobias, baby?” Winnie smiles, dark brown eyes glinting warmly. He finds himself returning her expression with his own, smiling. 

“As good as you can be, without a job, I guess. How’s the singing, Winnie?” He asks, head tilted thoughtfully. Winnie just grumbles and rolls her eyes in Marcus’ direction as an answer to his question. Tobias just giggles in understanding. Marcus narrows his eyes and looks back and forth between them. 

“Is there anything we can help ya with, baby?” Winnie offers kindly, hand on Tobias’ shoulder. He perks up at that and remembers why he came to the club in the first place. 

“Actually,” He fiddles with his coat sleeve, “I was wondering if you knew any place that was hiring? I've had no luck, sadly” At that, Winnie ponders for a moment. Before she can respond, Marcus interjects, slumped on one of the bar stools. 

“Miss Charlotte’s Event Co. Is looking for a new receptionist or somethin’, I heard they make good lettuce.” Marcus offers in a bored manor, picking at his fingernails. Despite the lack of enthusiasm, Tobias’ face lights up like a Christmas tree. 

“That would be _perfect!_” Tobias swings around in a circle, eyes sparkling in excitement. Marcus and Winnie exchange a confused look. 

“Ya know it’s just a receptionist, right, pumpkin?” Winnie asks gently. Tobias rears around, eyes still full of childishness, lop-sided grin. 

“It’s a _job!_ It’s what I need right now!” Tobias laughs infectiously, bringing his fist down like a hammer on his other flat hand to confirm the finality of that statement. “I am afraid I must go now, before it’s too late!” The young man starts to rush out the door before a startled Marcus hastily interrupts him. 

“-_Wait_, wait, you don’t know where this place even is,_ eager beaver,_” Marcus reminds him, lighting another cigarette, eyebrow raised. The excited man stops and realization hits, before a sheepish embarrassment blooms on his features. Fiddling with his sleeve he waits to hear. The funny sight amuses Marcus, “Make a left from the bakery, there’ll be the_ 9-5 Diner_, make right from there to the strip mall, it’s the shop on the end. Can’t miss it.” He puffs out the smoke as Tobias rushes out the door, once again. The young man can still hear the angry chiding of Winnie directed at the maniacal co-singer's cigarette addiction. The noise releases a chuckle from him, as he makes his way toward the_ what-cha-ma-call-it's-_Event-planning-company. 


	3. A New Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tobias immediately makes his way toward Miss Charlotte's Event Planning Co. to snatch up the job as a receptionist. Although the co-workers are on the dramatic side, he finds that this place might be the perfect fit!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! Yay! I may go into extensive editing while this is out, enjoy!! Still suggest the playlist!!  
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4toIcm2VpKUJXFVclHsNgg?si=1X3WEeRuTdCNnjRh_P-2rQ

Tobias never expected_ Miss Charlotte’s Event Planning Co._ to be as intimidating as it was. 

The building is adorned in a_ German schmeared_ brick and has the most noble appearance he has ever seen. The front of the building is rounded off to accentuate the fact that it was situated in a corner. Altogether, the front was massive, having a total of 18 windows on the top floor and 6 on the bottom. A bright red awning rests over the long front of the facility, casting a darker shade over the revolving glass doors. The name of the company is displayed in an elegant black font, complimenting the bright flowers out front. 

To say the building was intimidating was an understatement. It was downright _terrifying._ Tobias sucked in a sharp breath and debated turning heel and skidaddling. Nonetheless, his own determination and curiosity eventually won him over. Hesitantly, he adjusts his coat collar and walks in a fake determination toward the building. Tobias was so nervous as he stepped through the revolving door, that he didn’t pay attention to the person standing on the other side. 

_Crash! _

Intense heat on his left sleeve and the smell of coffee startled Tobias. He blinks, adjusting his vision to understand what had happened. Now splayed across the chestnut wood floor appeared to be a young woman with short black hair, and an intense amount of rage in her eyes. 

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, miss!” Tobias’ face was bright red as he extended a hand to her. Picking up her now empty coffee cup, she shoved his hand away, getting up herself. Her button-down white shirt, much to Tobias’ embarrassment, now had a large brown stain. Looking up from the stain and meeting the young woman’s aggressive dark brown eyes eyes was a big mistake, because this shorter gal looks like she is imagining all the possible ways to strangle him. 

“Are, uh, are you ok, miss?” Tobias, sheepishly pulling at his sleeve, asks kindly. The woman continues to stare daggers and lets out an aggressive huff. She turns heel and stomps off. The young man exhales a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. 

_ ‘Fantastic’_ He thought. _‘I haven’t even been hired yet, and I’m already failing miserably.’ _

“Don’t worry, boy, Aliana isn’t the social type.” Letting out a startled squeak, Tobias jumps from the deep voice behind him. An airy laugh erupts from the man who spoke as Tobias turns to see who it belonged to. 

A man of his late thirties, blonde and clean cut. He was obviously well kept and had deep pockets, for he wore a very stylish navy sweater. A white-collar underneath is visible, resting overtop the neckline. Brown khakis, freshly ironed, and black loafers. This was a man of_ style._ The older gentleman inclines his head to the startled young man, as if expecting some reply. Most people were shocked by the boy’s two-toned eyes, but the man shows no sign of disgust. The silence grew awkward, so Tobias finally breaks it. 

“Tobias Fletcher, I’m new if you couldn’t tell,” Tobias grins self-consciously, extending a hand for the man to shake. The older man snorts in response, grasping his hand firmly. 

“Maxime Stanford, pleasure,” The stylish gentleman returns his unsettled smile with an easy one. Mr. Stanford’s demeanor was precise, yet relaxing, and allowed Tobias to feel more at ease. Mr. Stanford walks to his left down a hallway and turns his head to look at him. Confused, Tobias just tilts his head. Mr. Stanford rolls his eyes and inclines his head to follow him. Like an excited puppy, Tobias bounces in-step next to the reserved man. 

After getting over his little accident in the foyer, Tobias takes a moment to take in the expensive appearance of the building. The wall is a gentle cream color decorated with a gold _fleur-de-lis_ pattern. His mouth forms a tiny ‘o’ at the massive crystal chandeliers that are placed at every crossroad hallway. Paintings of elegant balls hang regally, and a white crown molding makes one think that the building was designed for art. The floors at the front had been an elegant chestnut wood, but the rest is clean white marble. As Maxime makes a left, another hallway full of eye-candy. Looking at the gold carved molding at the top of the ceilings, his eyes are full of amazement. 

_‘So.....sparkly’_ Tobias thought dreamily, and swore he felt drool puddling. The building was a masterpiece! His eyes drank up every sight, remembering every detail meticulously. 

“Maxime! This place- it's incredible!” Tobias gushes, arms flailing animatedly. A huff of amusement escapes the older man’s lips, as he continues to walk ahead. 

“No need to flip your wig_ now_, kid. This is nothing compared to the rest of the joint.” Mr. Stanford laughs as Tobias’ eyes widen even more. Staring at all the rich and thoughtful details of the place, the young man almost doesn’t capture the question. “So, are you here for the receptionist position, Mr. Fletcher?” The older man stops suddenly at a doorway, almost making Tobias crash into him. 

_“Oof-_ uh,- oh! Yes, sir!” Tobias does a mock salute, resulting in a raised eyebrow from the other man. Mr. Stanford looks the young boy up and down and shakes his head, disappointed. 

“This simply won’t _do._” The man sighs dramatically, causing a confused head tilt from Tobias. 

“Uhm, I’m sorry?” He presses, not understanding. The man’s eyes widen incredulously, as if he asked the most ridiculous question. 

“_This!_” Mr. Stanford gestures to all of him, as if that answers his question, and his arms cross matter-of-factly. Now self-conscious, Tobias attempts to make a wild guess. 

“Is something wrong with my outfit?” And as soon as the words leave his lips, the satisfied look meets the man’s eyes. _Bingo_. 

“You look like one of those _doll-dizzy_ greaser’s!” The man exclaims with an air of dramatics. “And your coat!” He gasps as the young man touches the coffee stained sleeve, abashed. The man puts his fingers on the bridge of his nose, shaking his head sadly. “You simply cannot work here in such attire!” Mr. Stanford finishes his dramatic flair convincingly, causing Tobias to jump back in confusion. 

“But- but Mr. Stanford!” Tobias sputters “I’m not even hired yet!” his eyes are full of confusion now. The stylish man was hearing none of it and was already opening the door on his left. 

“I’m hurt, you never bothered to ask about my position here, Mr. Fletcher.” Mr. Stanford reminds, arm extending inside the now open room. The young man gasps. If Tobias thought that the building was flashy enough, it was nothing compared to the dramatic dressing-room. 

“How-? Wait-_ what?_” Tobias stumbles over himself. On the left, dresses covered in rhinestones and of every color and shade are on display behind screens of thick glass. Ruffles and ribbons are gracefully displayed and are oh-so-eye-catching. One royal blue off-the-shoulder ball gown is particularly elegant; cinched tightly at the waist and tapering out at the middle. 

The right side of the room is full of fashionable button-down shirts, blazers, and suspenders. Some were on the more simplistic color spectrum, while others portrayed the gaudier side. One particular hot pink blazer with baby pink ruffles would have made Tobias laugh if it weren’t for the fact that an anti-frantic fashionista stood beside him. Belts of leather and snakeskin lay expensively on a convenient silk pillow above the fashionable loafers' section. An even grander chandelier hung from the very center of the intense beauty of the clashing fabrics. 

“Wow.” Tobias muttered breathlessly. The room smelled of fresh mint and expensive leather. Maxime, with a look of pride, nodded in agreement. Tobias turned to the man, lop-sided grin adorning his features. 

“You still haven’t answered my question.” Mr. Stanford reminded, adjusting his posture to make himself appear bigger. Tobias is lost in thought for short a moment. 

“So, what is your profession, Mr. Stanford?” Tobias asked innocently, trying desperately to not get distracted by the flashy room. Mr. Stanford mocked a _‘Well,_ _since you asked.’_ expression and continued on. 

“I am the manager around here, I make sure that business gets done around here, Mr. Fletcher.” Tobias nods along eagerly, not understanding why the older man was still looking at him expectantly. Tobias smiles awkwardly, confused, before Mr. Stanford continues with a fake sense of boredom. “I am also the one in charge of hiring around here.” At this, Tobias nearly jumps out of his skin. 

“_WHAT?!_” The young man yelps, causing the manager to flinch. “Were you testing me or something?” Tobias asks curiously. An amused look was already threatening the man’s features. 

“In a way, yes. You are reasonably polite, despite being a tad odd.” Mr. Stanford lists off, hand on hip. “You are a touch ignorant, but genuine. Very refreshing. You seem to listen carefully enough and remembered my question. With enough training, I think you’ll fit the job nicely, Mr. Fletcher. You’re hired.” The older man steeples his fingers together. A joyous noise erupts from Tobias’ throat as he punches his fist in the air. The older man holds up a finger, causing him to freeze in place. 

“Ah ah ah, remember? You’re not working here dressed in _that_. Your outfit simply will not _do_ in this business, Mr. Fletcher.” The stylish older man chides. Tobias gives a fearful look down at himself and then at the rest of the room. Oh. 

_~~30 minutes later~~ _

“Stop _moving!_” An assistant, a middle-aged woman with a tape-measure, angrily huffing as Tobias squirms, shifting his balance on each foot. 

“My feet are tired, I’m sorry. We’ve been standing_ forever!_” Tobias whines as the shorter woman wraps the thin tape around his slender waist. 

“We’ve only been standing for 30-! _Oh_, never mind.” The woman angrily blows her curls out of her eyes in annoyance and looks down at her clipboard measurements. Tobias watches her anxiously as she goes to the clothes rack and retrieves a simplistic white long-sleeved shirt with a collar. Despite the basicness of the attire, seeing something so formal almost made Tobias tear up. 

_ ‘This is mine.’_ he thought warmly, as the woman was already making her way over with the shirt. 

_~~An hour later~~ _

Dressed in a sharper manner than he was used to, Tobias felt like a new man. The look gave him a newfound confidence along with a complimentary pair of black pants. He looked richer than he was, and it felt truly _killer._

The sound of a knock on the dressing room door startled the young man out of his reverie. Expecting to see Maxime Stanford, Tobias was shocked to see nothing of the sort. 

A _heartbreakingly_ beautiful woman of her 30s walked in with the confidence that Tobias currently lost. Her hair, jaw-length and honey blonde, was curled pristinely. Her eyes reminded him of the royal blue ball-gown from earlier, and her lips were bright red. She wore a long-sleeved black turtleneck and high-waisted brown plaid pants. Everything about her breathed pure elegance, but now she wore an expression of pure indifference. 

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Fletcher.” The woman, who had the most _incredible_ British accent, introduced. Tobias nearly tripped over his words. He felt as though he should bow simply because a mere introduction felt lack-luster. 

“The, uhm, the pleasure is all mine, Miss-_uh_,” 

“Charlotte,” The woman smiles radiantly, with perfectly white teeth. “Charlotte Montgomery, that is. I am guessing you are my new receptionist, dear?” Charlotte asks, and suddenly Tobias forgets why he’s here. After shaking himself out of the trance, he gives a shaky nod with a grin. The woman nods her head and asks Tobias to follow her. He does so without a second thought. Her high heels make a loud _clip clop_ sound as he follows. 

“Where are we going?” He asks innocently. 

“I used to be a receptionist,” Charlotte states simply, as if that answers the question. Tobias is confused, but she continues “I’ll teach you everything I know.” And at that, Tobias’ new job began. 


	4. Aiko Kamizaki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aiko Kamizaki is after something, but what? Or, better question, who?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooh villain time!! I won't spoil though!! Enjoy!! 
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4toIcm2VpKUJXFVclHsNgg?si=LZG1JG_LTHaZgytaww0fdA

The pent-house room is dark and held an aura of complete silence. 

A middle-aged woman of Japanese heritage lounges in a maroon leather chair. Behind her, the wall is complete glass, illuminating the room faintly with the cityscape of Harlem. The desk in front of her is older than she, and far more priceless than anyone in the room. Stacks of papers and pictures are neatly piled at her desk, just as she was taught. She looks to the right and meets the gaze of her assistant. He returns the gaze with an eagerness that annoys her. She tries to remember his name, but he starts the conversation before she can ask.

“Is there something you need, Aiko-san?” The man's eyes shift slightly when he asks the question. The woman pushes her shiny black hair behind her ear. She sips her saké out of a small glass, lips pulled in a tight line. 

“Have you been keeping track of them?” Aiko places her glass on the table, steepling her fingers seriously. The man swallows nervously. 

“Yes, Aiko-san. Though, we have been unable to keep track recently, I am afraid. They went dark again.” The man fumbles with his collar uneasily. Rage bubbled in the woman’s throat as her fingers danced along her pistol at her side. 

_ ‘It will be fine.’_ She reminds herself, calming her nerves with the last swig of her drink. The action causes the man’s shoulders to loosen. 

“Do you have any leads?” Aiko questions flatly. The man jolts slightly and digs into his bag for a moment, finally retrieving some papers. He brings them over to her desk obediently, and steps away as though the woman may strike. Aiko picks up one of the photos, and mumbles something in Japanese to herself. “Where were these photos taken?” She asks finally. 

“Near the bakery.” The woman is lost in thought for a moment until a delighted smile stretches across her face. Her mirth almost appeared unsettling with the shadows cascading across her face. She looks up at her assistant finally. 

“Follow them.” She breathes in almost a whisper, smile never leaving her face. She takes out her pistol and strokes it gently. The man flinches nervously causing the woman’s smile to grow. “How quaint,” She chuckles, “So we have an understanding, then?” She demands playfully. The man swallows hard and nods eagerly. _“Good.”_ She breathes quietly, getting up and in the man’s face. She points the barrel at the man’s temple and watches the beads of sweat drip down the side of his face.

“Because you know what will happen when you disappoint me again, right?” She purrs, and the man gives another shaky nod. “So, get _going!_” She shouts, shoving the man out of her face. He stumbles back, and scrambles to get his things, leaving as fast as he can. 

Aiko sits back in her seat, swiveling her chair to face the city. 

_‘I can save them.’_ She thinks to herself as she watches the destitute begging for money. Just a little longer and she’ll have the American’s attention. A classless paradise, just as the Germans desired. Achieving this goal is difficult, but it will be worth it soon. Sometimes the band-aid must be ripped off. Soon, they will see just how much she cares for them. For she was once a girl during the heat of war. She knew what it felt to starve and watch as the rich live on unchanged.

_ ‘But not_ _for long’_ Aiko smirks, fingers trailing circles around her gun-barrel. 

_ ‘I can save them.’_


	5. Receptionist's First Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tobias Fletcher, doing what receptionists do best~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy! Let me know where I can improve! This has been so much fun working on!!  
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4toIcm2VpKUJXFVclHsNgg?si=XBcDmyD2TECqBJEKXy9gaQ

Tobias Fletcher is thrown straight into the job of a receptionist.

Charlotte Montgomery rants in an impatient frenzy while Tobias, who is sitting on the opposite side of her desk, soaks up every word. 

“-And remember, this one is very important. You do not know him, but Claude likes his coffee-” The young man half-listens as he looks around the stuffy room, which was his boss’s office. It wasn’t nearly as grand as the rest of the building. In fact, it seemed to be just like any other office. “-when someone asks about ball reservations in the building, discuss the different options regarding flower and color scheme-”

Papers are stacked messily across the woman’s desk, contrasting with her put-together appearance. Charlotte’s office was small and messy yet comforting in a way he couldn’t describe. 

He snaps out of his reverie to find that his boss has stopped talking. Now, she is staring down at him expectantly. “Did you get all that, Mr. Fletcher?” She scoffs at him. However, Tobias happens to be very talented at multitasking~. The slight look of shock visible on her face is almost priceless! The young man begins to list off every single assignment with impeccable detail. Charlotte’s mouth hangs open, slightly flabbergasted. 

“-and I definitely won’t forget, if someone asks where you are on Fridays, I will tell them you are taking your niece to piano practice.” Tobias finishes the list breathlessly. The surprise on his boss’ face is covered up quickly as Charlotte gives a brisk nod. 

“Alright, it appears you have figured out the gist of things around here, Mr. Fletcher.” She goes to her desk and opens one of the drawers. She retrieves a massive folder, and hands it to the young man. “You can start by scheduling appointments with all of the names in this binder, and please remember, _do not_ let it interfere with my current schedule.” And at that, she sits back down in her chair. Tobias, holding the stack of papers, makes his way toward the door before a loud ‘Wait!’ from the woman stops him. He turns his head to see Ms. Charlotte shaking her empty mug of coffee at him. He nods in understanding, half-smiling as he retrieves the cup. When he grabs the handle, she holds up a finger. “Remember,_ no cream_.” The young man giggles. 

“Of course, Miss Charlotte.” Satisfied, the women refocuses on her work. Tobias scampers out the door giddily. 

~~~ 

_ ‘I have a job!’_

He almost breaks out into another fit of excitement, as he makes his way to the lounge. Ok, lounge was an understatement. Every square-inch of the joint is an absolute palace. The lounge is equally so. 

The ceilings must’ve been_ twenty-feet_ tall! The most pompous crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling. Its light reflects a kaleidoscope pattern on every object it touches. 8 pillars total occupy the space of the room, 2 being at each corner. The floors are a subtle, yet elegant, marble. Spotlessly _clean_! On the right-hand-side of the room, a rich brown marble accents part of the wall. Built-in soda guns adorn the decorated wall. Multiple round tables are on display throughout the room and seat a few well-dressed New Yorkers. Many tight smiled men and woman are seen having their midmorning coffee and laughing briskly. 

The most incredible aspect of the room sits at it’s very center. A grand piano is propped on a massive quartz stand, which was surrounded by a small pool. The pool served as a fountain due to its built-in jets spouting water at every elegant angle. Realistic seashells are carved elegantly along the sides of the fountain. The black grand piano’s sleek appearance enhanced the fountain’s other-worldly beauty. Tobias was unable to tear his gaze away. 

He shakes his head for a moment. 

_ ‘Alright, Tobias. Focus! Get the coffee!’_ The excited man reminds himself, making his way to what appears to be a... mini fridge? Opening the door, Tobias’ eyes widen. The small box of chilly air is full of every possible treat imaginable! Ice cold scotch, stacks of chocolate eclairs, parfaits, and... 

“Chocolate pudding!” Tobias shouts giddily, scaring a well-dressed man to his right. Tobias doesn’t notice, and he reaches his hand into the fridge. Breaking one of the cups from its connection to the others, he brings the small cup to his chest. A grin is plastered on his face as he goes to the counter to retrieve a spoon. As he reaches for the silver utensil, a woman’s voice scares him out of his task. 

“You should focus on your job.” A raspy and slightly accented voice. Tobias looks up, shocked to find that it was the same woman he spilled coffee on this morning! Her face has soft features that are hardened by an icy cold expression, lips in a tight line. Her shirt is changed out to a dark blue button down. Despite her short stature, she appears rather intimidating. Tobias swallows nervously. 

“I- yes of course! I was only-” Tobias stutters out, finding himself unable to finish due to her darkening scowl. The unsettled young man brings his one hand back to his side and looks back sadly at the pudding cup in his other. _‘Later.’_

After placing the pudding cup back in the mini-fridge, Tobias walks back over to where the woman was. She was..._gone._ The young man shakes his head and blinks rapidly. Usually strange hallucinations only happened when he ate expired meat during the war. Settling in his mind that she is probably just a ghost trying to haunt him, Tobias goes back to his coffee making task. 

_ ~~Four Hours Later~~ _

Tobias sits at his desk looking through the binder Ms. Charlotte gave him. He ruffles through the pages and makes a few calls using the customers’ numbers in the folder. Sometimes he’d hear the screaming and cursing of an aggressive bride or the hasty and apathetic grunting of a groom. 

“I’m sorry, sir, but tonight’s ballroom is filled! You’ll have to take it up with my boss.” Tobias nervously plays with the cord of the telephone. He frantically writes on a pad of paper in front of him. 

“Well tell your_ boss_ he can kiss my-” Tobias hangs up the phone and lets out a loud groan. Running his hand through his messy hair and biting on his pen, he continues with the calls. As he’s about to make another call, Tobias hears a knock on the door, making him look up. A young man with a deep complexion and curly dark hair walks in. He has a gentle and sincere smile and Tobias finds himself returning it. 

“Sorry to interrupt, Miss Charlotte asked if I would check on ya.” The young man states, picking at his nail cuticles. 

“All good here!” Tobias exclaims energetically, until his smile falters a bit. “Actually, some of the people on the other line can be a tad grumpy.” He sighs. The young man groans, nodding along in agreement. 

“Yea, you’ll come to find that rich people aren’t what they’re cracked up to be.” He sighs before extending a hand to Tobias. “The names James, by the way. James McCarthy.” Tobias grabs it and gives it an overextended shake. 

“Tobias Fletcher! I’m the new guy!” Tobias grins brightly and the young man smiles back. 

“People don’t usually greet me with such enthusiasm.” James chuckles while Tobias looks at him quizzically. “Well, you know.” James gestures to himself before the thought finally occurs to Tobias. They share a knowing look. 

“Well, for what it’s worth,” Tobias looks to the left smiling softly, “I consider you an equal. Thanks for checking on me, Mr. McCarthy.” The young man, stunned, gives a shaky nod and leaves the room. 

Tobias looks back at the list of names in the folder and grumbles. 

_ ‘A chocolate pudding would be fantastic right about now.’_ Tobias daydreams, and begins to think about his strange encounter with the ghost lady earlier. She seems to dislike him, but Tobias isn’t going to have that. He feels guilty about the coffee incident, but _surely_ she doesn’t hate him, right? Whatever she was and wherever she goes, it seems _off._

Everyone else seem normal enough. A touch on the dramatic side, but isn’t everyone at times? Even though he hasn’t met everyone yet, the people here seem nice enough. Harlem isn’t exactly known for the warm and friendly, so expecting the greeting of a hug or kiss is unrealistic. Tobias will have to just make up for the lack of hugs and kisses he supposes. 

After a couple more hours, Tobias looks up to the clock. The time reads 5:42_pm_. He sighs in relief because his shift is almost over. Another knock on the door causes him to look over. In the doorway stands Maxime, adjusting his posture and still dressed pristinely. A gives a long and drawn out yawn to exaggerate the time. 

“Your shift is almost up, Mr. Fletcher. I hope this job has been fruitful?” Maxime tilts his head as Tobias gives an eager nod. Maxime nods in response, “Good. I shall extend the invitation to you then.” The fashionable man holds up a hand before Tobias can ask. “We always host balls on the weekends. The staff are typically allowed to join in on the fun as a sort of _break._ The invitation is open for you as well.” Maxime finishes with a flick of the hand. Tobias considers for a moment. 

“It’s Friday, sir.” Tobias picks up his grey long-coat and bag. “I would _love_ to join, but I would like to spend dinner with my family this time, sir.” Maxime sighs and gives a knowing look. 

“Another one will be tomorrow, if you decide to change your mind.” Maxime informs, loosening his tie a little. “It’s not often that I meet people who have a relationship with their families these days, it’s admirable.” The man adds. Tobias smiles appreciatively. 

“Thank you, Mr. Stanford. I’m lucky to have my family during these times.” The nervous kid sighs and looks back to the clock. Maxime nods knowingly. 

“Well I guess I should walk you out. This way, Fletcher.” And so, Tobias follows him down the decorated hallway. 

As they pass the lounge, Maxime stops for a moment. Tobias looks up at the taller man questioningly. 

“Uh- sir? The exit is up ahead.” But the old man walks into the lounge anyways. Tobias looks back toward the hallway until hesitantly following Maxime. 

The room is lit by candlelight and has a new breath of elegance to it. The fountain makes a delicate dripping sound, while the smell of pastries flood through the room. The aromas and mood lighting received a soft sigh from Tobias. This building is truly _impeccable_. 

The young man walks over quietly behind Maxime and peers over his shoulder. They are both currently standing in front of the mini fridge. The fashionista turns around and almost jumps back, not expecting Tobias that close. The young man just blinks, smile plastered on face. 

“What’cha doin’?” Tobias asks innocently, arms behind back. Maxime gestures to the mini fridge. 

“I saw you eyeing the chocolate pudding earlier and figured you wanted to take some home?” An excited noise bubbles out of Tobias’ throat as he pulls his hands together in begging prayer. 

“_YES!_ -Uh, I mean, yes sir! I would absolutely _love_ some!” Tobias could almost feel the excited tears form in his eyes as Maxime brings out one of the pudding cups. Taking in his hands, Tobias stares at it for a moment. The older man waves a hand in front of his face. 

“He_llo_! Earth to Fletcher? What’s your thing with pudding cups, anyways?” The man asks instantly. Tobias thinks back to the war for a moment, a bitter sweetness in his softened gaze. 

“I have a long history with this simple cup of chocolate-y _goodness!_” The young man decides on, a new grin on his face. The older man rolls his eyes with a chuckle. 

“Fine then, keep your secrets. Have a good night, Fletcher. And you better show up to the ball tomorrow.” Tobias laughs nervously and gives a ‘maybe’. And with that, he makes his way out the door. 

_~~At home~~_

“And they just _hired_ you on the spot!?” Mrs. Capaldi exclaims in shock. Tobias gives an excited nod, shoveling the remainder of _chicken tetrazzini_ in his mouth. Mr. Capaldi sits back in his chair, impressed. 

“I knew you had it in ya, kid.” He points to Tobias with his fork before shoving the food in his mouth. “Ifts Likef I’fve alwayfs said,” He swallows. “_Hai talento._” Warmth blooms in Tobias’ chest as he looks at his makeshift family. Nancy eating both messily and aggressively, Lucardo picking at his meal, Mrs. Capaldi’s motherly gaze, and Mr. Capaldi’s surprising softness. This is his family. 

“I hope to make you all proud.” Tobias sighs, smiling gently. Mrs. Capaldi ruffles his hair like he loves. 

“You already have,_ Il mio amore.” _

And with that, Tobias feels like he can take on_ anything. _


	6. The Scarecrow Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An old friend is intertwining paths again. What is Miss Charlotte's Event Co. even about?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'VE DONE IT AGAIN! Yay!! Alrightee I hope you all enjoy this new chapter. I am trying to experiment with different POVs! Lmk what I can improve upon. Please leave a kudos!! It helps with morality...heh
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4toIcm2VpKUJXFVclHsNgg?si=jsxPDYCcT0K5Jyk3ZcZFqw

It was too early on a Saturday morning for Maxime to be working. 

The middle-aged man stretches his arms and legs with a cat-like grace as he walks over to the coffee machine. Some coffee had already been pre-made it seems. Dark and strong as he likes. The smell of freshly brewed coffee aids the well-dressed gentleman in coping with early weekend mornings. Maxime turns his gaze to the tall blonde woman sitting comfortably on the counter next to him. Charlotte smiles in greeting, flashing her stark white teeth. 

“Good morning, Maxime. You’re up,_ early_.” Her breathy and accented voice is tinged with amusement. He chuckles, adjusting his collar and sipping his dark coffee. 

“You understand how things are.” Maxime sighs, setting his coffee down. “I can’t seem to get sleep lately. Especially knowing what’s going on out there.” Charlotte nods somberly, fiddling with her heart-shaped necklace. 

“Things have been shifty lately. Whole office is on edge.” The British woman breathes out heavily. Despite the steadiness, Maxime can tell she’s on edge. The way she rubs her arms attempting to calm herself says everything. He walks over to where she sits on the counter, sitting his mug on the surface. He leans up against the surface, beside her, but Charlotte doesn’t look at him. 

“Hey, Charlotte.” She still doesn’t look at him. “Ms. _Montgomery_?” No response. This situation is obviously bothering her. She’s looking down at the floor and biting down on her thumb nail. Maxime sighs and gives her shoulder a reassuring nudge causing her to look up at him, annoyed. 

“I’m sorry, Max. Everyone here expects _me_ to be strong,” She rubs her temple with her long fingers. “but I feel so much pressure being relied on so heavily.” Charlotte curls her knees up to her chin. Maxime eyes show understanding. 

“Hey, you’re doing a great job, Boss.” She rolls her eyes and smirks at the title. He returns it with one of his own. “Plus-” He sips his coffee, “-you’re the strongest woman I know. Heck, strongest _person_ I know.” At that, she breathes comfortably. Returning the previous shoulder nudge, she gets up off the counter. 

“Thanks, Max. You always give the best pep-talks.” He inclines his head and waves his hand in a _‘not a problem’_ manner. A serious look appears back on her face as she folds her arms. Maxime picks up on it right away and gives her a questioning look. She waves it off. 

“A lot of people were hurt by the war, Maxime. Some still blame us.” Charlotte fiddles with a curled blonde strand of hair. “We’ve made a great deal of enemies during our time on the field.” The man isn’t startled by the revelation, in fact, he thinks about it every night. 

“You’re right. It’s only a matter of time.” Maxime strains, thinking back to his old friends. Charlotte seems to read his thoughts. 

“Don’t blame yourself. Arthur made his choice.” At that, the gentleman releases a shaky breath he didn’t realize he was holding. The tall blonde woman places a gentle, but firm, hand on his arm knowingly. “War changes people.” Charlotte stares off, eyes glazing over in thought. Maxime inclines his head in agreement. 

“The kid was always tainted. _Insecure._ This job destroyed him, and now he’s stronger than most.” He downs the last of his lukewarm coffee. Emotions such as these aren’t his thing, so it’s for the best that Maxime changes the subject. He clears his throat, straightening himself. “So, how’s the receptionist treatin’ ya, love?” Charlotte snorts in response. 

“Dumb as a sack of rocks, yet strangely _intelligent_ at the same time.” She ponders for a moment while Maxime cackles in response. He looks out of the lounge room and sees a familiar lanky boy. Papers are stacked hazardously and sway as he walks. 

“Speak of the Devil.” Maxime shakes his head as Charlotte turns her head in the direction. She huffs in response. 

“I’m too old for this.” She mutters, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. Maxime get up, pats her on the shoulder, and walks out the room to greet Tobias. 

The kid doesn’t seem to notice him and is humming along to a little tune. Maxime clears his throat causing the receptionist to jump. Some of the papers on top of the swaying stack fly off the top. 

_“Eek!_ Oh! Mr. Stanford!” Tobias places the stack of papers on the desk, nervously straightening his button-down shirt. A pair of slightly worn suspenders rest overtop his new shirt, sleeves rolled up. He wore a tan paper-boy hat, which he now fumbled with in his hands. “I- uh, I didn’t see you there, sir.” Maxime lets out a slight pitying sigh, shaking his head. 

“And why are you here so early, Mr. Fletcher?” The boy blinked for a second, eyes wandering to the kitchen and back. A sheepish smile graces his face, light catching his unnerving blue eye. The grown man tuts disapprovingly. 

“I swear, Fletcher, your pudding problem will get you fired _fast_.” Multiple emotions flashed through Tobias’ eyes._ Longing. Confusion. Worry. More longing._ Sighing, Maxime gestures in the direction of the kitchen. A gasp of joy bubbles in the kid’s throat, which he attempted to stifle, as Tobias scampers off to the kitchen. Maxime is left chuckling to himself as he watches the kid rush off. 

_ ‘I remember the days of innocence.’_ He thinks back fondly, the emotions becoming bittersweet._ ‘He kind of reminds me of-’_ But Maxime waves away the thought with a grimace. 

_~~Around the same time~~_

Aiko Kamizaki coos as she swings a giggling baby girl in the air. 

“Ah! Watashi no ai!” Aiko whispers lovingly to the bundle of joy in her caress. The infant blinks her big eyes and breaks out in a toothless grin. “Mika, Anata wa watashi no kōfukudesu.” She sighs, brushing Mika’s small dark strands of hair out of her eyes. Aiko situates herself at her desk, playing with her daughter’s arms. A figure stands in the doorway, which causes the now rigid woman to look up, aghast. 

A relatively young man, no older than 30 inclines his head. His pitch-black hair sweeps messily over his forehead, and his eyes are a chilling green. His tan skin tone adds another level of contrast to him. A constellation of moles is situated sporadically across his neck and face. His tall and slim appearance has an eerie silhouette in the doorway. His sharp, angular visage gave off an air of someone who was once very handsome. A shame that his mouth is currently covered in an array of deep scars. The unnerving feature that is his scars give off an almost _scarecrow_ image. The man looks over at the infant and flicks his gaze back up to Aiko. 

“Who sent you, Arthur _Diaz_?” Aiko spits out mockingly, pressing her child’s face against her in protection. Arthur’s eyes show a disinterested annoyance. He strolls over to her desk, causing the Japanese woman to flinch. He opens his coat with a dramatic flair causing Aiko’s hand to go directly to her handgun. Arthur holds up his hand in warning, causing the startled mother to hush. He brings out a photo that causes Aiko to gasp in shock. She traces her fingers over the face’s familiar scars, closing her eyes tightly. When she opens them, she sees Arthur bring his dominant fist up to his temple. He flicks out the pointer finger_ ‘REMEMBER’_. Aiko swallows and nods her head to the mute assassin. 

“What does he want from me?” Aiko gasps, rubbing her hand over her now whining baby’s back. Arthur places one fist over-top the other and taps his wrist on his other wrist: _‘JOB’_. Placing her hand on her head, she stares at the assassin in utter confusion. “A job? Is the job for me?” She questions nervously. The man shakes his head solemnly. “Then who is the job for?!” Aiko gasps, biting her thumbnail. Arthur points to himself causing another confused stupor out of the woman. 

“If you have a job, then why are you here for _me_?” She breathes, afraid she doesn’t want to know the answer. The assassin makes a multitude of signs mixed with furrowed brows conveying he is asking a question. “_YOU. LEARN. ME-_” He makes a sign with his pointer finger attempting to ‘stab’ his other hand: '_K__ILL.'_

Aiko Kamizaki nods her head in understanding, regaining her composure. 

“So, he sent you to help me? And all I have to do is give you the information?” She questions, receiving vigorous nods from the scarecrow man. Soon, a sly smile graces her face. “It’s a pleasure working with you, _Artie._ I hope you like pompous balls.” Arthur grimaces at the nickname, but agrees, nonetheless. 


	7. I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ball is tonight, and Tobias needs to get read. Maxime is happy to help, but so is the infamous Marcus Jackson... Little does Tobias know, he must prepare for something bigger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent a lot more on this chapter, and it still may end up changing lol. Hope you enjoy! 
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4toIcm2VpKUJXFVclHsNgg?si=HvyXht_oQIWhpfamXJ6ZqQ
> 
> Title is based on a song by Arctic Monkeys, which is in the playlist!

It is currently November 10 of the same year. 

Tobias sits at his work desk, pretending to listen to Maxime, while licking the remainder of chocolate pudding off his fingers. The taller man rambles on and on as he nods his head absentmindedly. Suddenly, Tobias' attention snaps back into focus as Maxime raises his voice louder. 

“Mr. Fletcher, do you even know how to dance? Tonight’s a _ball_ after all!” His fancy superior asks. Tobias thinks for a brief moment, finger on his lip. 

“Do jazz hands count?” He asks innocently, receiving a groan from Maxime. The older man walks over and leans against Tobias’ small desk. 

“You know this gathering is meant to be formal, right Fletcher?” Tobias tilts his head at that, scribbling notes on a piece of paper. Ok... 'notes' are a loose term; it’s just cat doodles. Maxime continues on, “So you have to dress up a little, kid. Fix that monstrosity that you call hair and put ya in a nice suit.” Tobias’ face reddens as he self-consciously tugs at a strand of dark brown hair. 

“I’ve never been to a fancy party before.” The receptionist mutters nervously. The blond gentleman nods his head, straightening himself. He turns his gleaming blue eyes to Tobias with a dramatic flair. 

“I can assist you.” He says determinedly, hands on his hips. Tobias’ eyes sparkle as he claps his hands giddily. 

“You’d do that for me, Mr. Stanford?!” Maxime’s smile grows as he shakes his head slightly. 

“Technically_ I_ won’t be the one helping you.” The older man states, staring at his fingernails. Tobias tilts his head like a lost dog. _Uh oh. _

_~~Later on~~_

“You know _Marcus?!_” Tobias’ mouth gapes as he stands face to face with the platinum flirt. A smug look is plastered on the slightly older boy’s face. 

“Yep!” Maxime replies. “He and the jazz group are playing here tonight. Figured he could give you some pointers?” Tobias’ eyes show intense fear as he looks back and forth between them. Marcus gives him a small wave and a wink as he grimaces in response. 

“_Aw_ why the long face, Fletchy?” Marcus whines teasingly as Tobias caves in on himself. The poor receptionist looks to Maxime for help. Unfortunately, the older man disappears in a flash, leaving the two boys alone. Marcus raises a brow at him, leaning against the dressing room wall casually. 

“I appreciate you coming here,” Tobias gives a hopeful smile, “but I would rather you _not_ teach me to dance.” Marcus shakes his blond head firmly. 

“Oh no no _no_! You’re _not_ getting out of this one that easily, Tobias.” He walks toward him while Tobias takes another step back. “Ya want my help or not?” 

“I’m gonna go with_ not._” Marcus huffs stubbornly in response, obviously annoyed. He grabs on to Tobias’ shoulder making the receptionist flinch. 

“Stop being a_ baby_, Fletcher!” Marcus wraps his arms around him, blowing a blond strand out of his own eye. 

“Let. _GO!_” Tobias yelps, tugging forward and backward. He kicks his legs out wildly. Marcus tightens his grip on him until eventually toppling backward. Both boys land with a loud_ crash_, knocking a coat hanger overtop of them both. Marcus somehow ends up on top of Tobias and they stare at each other for a moment. Marcus’ visible eye is full of mischief, while Tobias’ is full of terror. 

“Has anyone told you that you have beautiful eyes?” Marcus whispers. Tobias snorts before full blown belly laughter erupts from them both. The loud cackles fill the room with an air of newfound comfortability. Marcus wheezes, holding his stomach, as he gets up off him. Tobias, still laughing, brushes himself off and gets up as well. Marcus’ face goes back to a more serious, yet still naughty, demeanor. “No, but seriously, you have to learn to dance properly.” The fear instantly returns in Tobias’ eyes as the jazzy flirt grabs onto both of his hands firmly. 

“I’d actually rather die.” Tobias points out, smiling awkwardly. Marcus just rolls his eyes. 

“You’re just being _dramatic_, darling.” The blonde states matter-of-factly as he yanks the nervous boy towards him, uncomfortably close. Tobias’ face scrunches up in disgust as he notices the playful glint in his friend’s eye. 

“What now?” He gulps, avoiding his gaze awkwardly. 

“_Hm_? Oh yea, the dancing.” Marcus laughs shortly. Marcus grabs his right hand and places it on his waist while placing Tobias’ left on his shoulder. Tobias cringes a little inside. “Ok, I will instruct you on leading a slow dance.” Marcus states firmly. 

“This is weird.” 

“Oh _hush_ and pay attention. You’re gonna step forward with your left foot. Your _left,_ Fletcher.” Marcus reminds patiently. Tobias switches feet and steps hesitantly forward with his left foot as Marcus steps back naturally on his right. 

“Ok, what next?” 

“Reverse your foot to the right one and do the same.” Marcus instructs as Tobias feels the heat of intense concentration. He steps forward with his right foot. Marcus nods in response. “Ok, good. Now you’re gonna step back with your left foot and then your right. But remember. Take it_ slow.”_ The focused young man follows the instructions as best as possible. His legs feel like jelly due to this uncommon motion. Dancing looks easier than it truly is, after all. 

“Like that?” He asks as Marcus nods encouragingly in response. 

“Just loosen your shoulders a wee bit.” Tobias rolls them in an attempt to loosen up. “Straighten your posture and don’t make eye contact with me. Eye contact reads intimacy so turn your head opposite of me.” Marcus instructs with a smirk. Tobias just groans in response. 

“I don’t know why I’m learning to dance. It’s not like I’m going to be.” He sighs as they continue with the dance routine. Tobias is lost in thought, but refocuses when Marcus gives out a yelp. He jerks back. 

“That was my foot!” He seethes, “And why not?” Tobias gives an apologetic smile. 

“Sorry Marcus. And I prefer the _hors d’oeuvres_ rather than the actual party.” He informs honestly. Marcus rolls his visible eye and exhales heavily through his nose. Marcus and Tobias continue with the pattern for a little bit longer before the former pauses. Tobias gives a questioning look. 

“You’re going to have to twirl me.” Marcus states flatly. Tobias’ eyes widen in disbelief as he stands absolutely still. 

“_What?”_ He sputters, but Marcus already steps backward. The blond brings their joined hands above his head before forcefully making Tobias twirl him messily. The motion happens so fast, Tobias hardly has a moment to process it. One might say dancing is...fun? After they part, Tobias is in a daze. 

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it ya baby?” Marcus teases causing Tobias to snort in response. 

“I guess not. So now that we’re done here, I guess I’ll be on my way, then?” But Marcus shakes his head dramatically. 

“You’re still _perilously_ underdressed.” He reminds, wagging his finger. Tobias gulps and looks down at his attire. 

“I thought I looked fine.” He whines, but Marcus doesn’t budge. 

“Hardly! You need to be in something_ tight_.” He purrs, making a claw motion that causes Tobias to cringe._ Oh no. _

_~~An hour later~~ _

_ “Ow!”_ Tobias winces as the the grumpy tailor pricks him with the sewing needle._ ‘It was an accident’_ apparently. She was his previous tailor from last time, and she has not lost her brutality. 

“Hold _still!_” She hisses, annoyed. Tobias is currently in the dressing room, surrounded by a bored Marcus, a focused Maxime, and an aggravated short woman. Tobias is currently being fitted for an all-black suit. Although it looks quite nice, the style isn’t necessarily his own. He prefers bright colors rather than jet-black, but who is he to complain about a free suit. A dramatic tailcoat trails down the back of the tux giving a cockatiel silhouette. The middle is cinched a touch too tight, much to his chagrin. Marcus’ suggestions were no help. 

“Well, don’t you just look like a proper_ gentleman!_” Maxime hypes Tobias up encouragingly. Marcus whistles in response, giving a wink. Tobias returns it with a strained smile. “You’ve outdone yourself Margaret!” Maxime nods to the dark-haired woman, who quickly changes her previous demeanor. 

“Oh! Why _thank_ you, Mr. Stanford.” She gushes, face reddening. Tobias narrows his eyes at her questioningly. He didn’t realize she could carry any ounce of warmth. But here she is, _flustered_ and all. He is truly hurt by this. Margaret continues to keep up with Tobias’ previous measurements, adjusting where it’s needed. 

“Hey, uh, Maxime?” Tobias strains as both arms are held in a ‘T’ position. 

“Yes, Fletcher?” Maxime sighs, lounging in a velvet chair. He’s flicking through a nearby fashion catalog while Marcus peers over his shoulder curiously. 

“Don’t you think this whole suit thing is a tad excessive?” Tobias stands incredibly still as Margaret measures the length of his arm. “Not that I’m not grateful!” He adds in hastily. Maxime lets out a tinkly laugh. 

“Not at all, kid!” He waves it off. “You look fabulous!” Tobias grimaces quietly as he continues to stand in place. Margaret threads the needle where his shoulder is located. 

“Ow! That was my arm...” Tobias squeaks as Margaret mindlessly pricks him. 

“Sorry.” She says bluntly. She really isn’t though. Tobias wonders how many band-aids he will need after this. 

Time goes by, and Tobias feels like he had been standing for hours. His arms are starting to give out. Not even Marcus’ _‘encouragement’_ is helping. Now, both Marcus and Maxime are slumped in their chairs, asleep. Maxime’s head is rested on his hand while the exhausted blond snores softly against him. Tobias looks blearily at the clock, which now reads 5:31pm. The ball starts in a half hour. Finally, Margaret steps back and nods her head at her _‘masterpiece’. _

“Aaaaaand_ DONE!_” She claps her hands loudly causing Tobias to jolt and the other two to fall out of their chairs. She shoves the now startled Tobias in front of a mirror roughly. To say he’s shocked is an understatement. 

The all black outfit accentuated his messy dark hair, making it appear more mysterious way. Not even his two-toned eyes could throw off the look. The tuxedo is tight-fitting and stylish. A dramatic tailcoat in the back and a pitch-black tie in the front. He almost looks like a personified version of a raven. Tobias feels rich... in a way he’s never felt before. 

“Hey _handsome!_” Marcus makes a kissy face as Maxime gives an approving nod. Tobias’ face reddens as he plays with the fabric now adorning him. Glancing back at the mirror takes his breath away. He looks to Margaret with a misty and emotional expression. 

“This...this is mine?” He gasps. The woman seems taken aback as she gives a soft nod. Tobias rushes forward and squeezes the woman in a tight embrace. Margaret gasps and gives a ‘you're welcome’ before quickly breaking away. Tobias’ eyes sparkle as he gives a little twirl. Oh, how he _loves_ the way it swishes in the back like a little tail! He laughs excitedly, swishing side to side. “It’s perfect!” Marcus claps along, chuckling. 

“Alright, alright. Calm down, Fletcher. We’re not done _yet._” Maxime waves his magazine roll at him. Marcus hides his mouth with his hand, giggling mischievously. The dapper young man has a terrible feeling about this. 

“What more is there to do?” Tobias askes innocently. “I can dance, _sort of_, and I am dressed up!” He gestures to himself animatedly. Suddenly, his mouth gapes as realization hits. Marcus and Maxime’s teeth glint brightly like a bunch of smug alligators as they stare up at Tobias’ mess on his head. 

_ Why me? _

_~~A half hour later~~_

Tobias’ hair is gelled back, giving him an uncommonly sleek appearance. No more dark strands frame his face. Tobias feels completely and utterly _exposed._ He leans forward, staring down the white hallway as he gulps nervously. Men and women, dressed elegantly, hold hands as they enter the ballroom. Tight fitting or flowy dresses attract the eyes of hungry men. Meanwhile, Tobias is too scared to even show himself. 

“Ey scaredy cat~!” Marcus’ voice from behind causes the poor receptionist to jump. Marcus is dressed in a plain white button-down with black pants. Next to him is a similarly dressed Big Al and a beautifully dressed Winnie. Her breathtaking ballgown is a pale cream that hangs off her shoulders almost teasingly. It is slim fitting at the waist and tapers out in a cascade of gold glitter flecks. Her tight curls are held up in a beautiful updo. She strolls over coolly

“Stop botherin’ him, Marcus.” Winnie chides him teasingly. Marcus’ pouts back at her, arms crossed. Tobias almost feels bad for Marcus, but carries on as usual. 

“You’re dressed nice.” Tobias points out to Winnie warmly. She smiles, accentuating her dimples, and waves her hand at him. 

“Oh stop it_ you._ I must say, you’re looking mighty fine yaself.” Tobias gives an embarrassed smile in return. Marcus gives a strange look between the two of them, and coughs into his fist. They both turn to look at him. 

“Sorry to interrupt, but _Winnie_ and _I_ have a show to run.” Big Al gives a hurt expression. “And Big Al of course!” He adds in hastily, slightly flustered. Tobias senses something is off, but he can’t quite tell _what_. There is an air of impatience and something else between them, but he waves it off. Both Marcus, Winnie and Big Al make their way quickly toward the backstage. Winnie and Marcus bicker the whole way, causing Big Al to groan in annoyance. 

A second later, a very well-dressed Maxime makes his way over to Tobias. Ms. Charlotte, dressed in a slimming royal blue dress, is by his side. She inclines her head in greeting, flashing a blinding smile. Tobias finds himself returning it. 

“Hello, Mr. Fletcher.” Her accent is _very_ pleasant indeed. “Looks like Maxime cleaned you up well?” She teases the stylish man on her left. Maxime rolls his eyes, chuckling. Tobias finds himself giggling also. 

“I guess he did.” Tobias nods a _‘thank you’_ to the older man. “_Oh!_ I can dance too!” Tobias’ eyes sparkle excitedly, swishing his tailcoat. 

“It’s no use if you’re cooped up behind the pillars, kid.” Maxime reminds, causing Tobias to stammer. His eyes shift nervously toward the crowd. 

“Eh heh. About that.” He begins, rubbing his arm. Ms. Charlotte shakes her blonde head, curls swaying in the motion. 

“Not so fast. This is a_ ball,_ after all. You need someone to dance with, darling.” She reminds as Maxime nods in agreement. Tobias gulps, peering into the gleaming ballroom. The ceiling is arched and massive. A grand chandelier hangs from the ceiling, flanked by several smaller ones. Tables are full of multiple different foods and cakes that smell as incredible as they look. Hundreds of rich guests swing each other around, laughing in a composed way. The very prospect of going in there terrifies Tobias. 

“Uhm...I’m just going to-” He makes his way backwards to escape before a strong hand yanks his collar back. 

“Oh no you aren’t.” Maxime growls. “I worked too long on you to let you off the hook that easily,_ Fletcher!_” Tobias gulps as he’s practically dragged to the ballroom. The sight of a disgruntled, yet stylish, man dragging a crazy eyed boy, followed by a blonde Brit trailing behind draws a lot of attention. All eyes are on them questioningly before the guests focus back on their own conversations. 

“Oh...no.” Tobias gulps, anxiety building up inside of him. So many faces...How is he going to survive here? This place is a warzone full of snooty rich people. His head turns left and right frantically as his heart races. “I think I’m gonna be sick.” Tobias breathes. A comforting pat from Maxime is felt, but isn’t enough. 

“Relax. Find a girl. Dance a little.” Maxime says smoothly, turning back to Ms. Charlotte to discuss private business. Tobias shakes his head fearfully as he is now alone. Why did he do this? Someone._ Anyone_ will do about! A familiar face is at least something! 

He scans the room for anyone that he knows. Marcus and Winnie are on the stage performing, so that’s out of the question. James McCarthy is nowhere to be found, and Maxime is busy talking to Ms. Charlotte. Some of the guests mutter and gossip at Tobias’ expense. He still tries to find someone he recognizes. His eyes scan the room and soon enough... 

_ “Aha!”_ Tobias whispers quietly to himself. The young woman he crashed into on his first day is casually lounged against the wall. Her dress is a simple black and tight fitting one. She is on the short and slightly voluptuous side, and her hair is short and jet black. Her eyes are a deep brown that enhances the warmth in her skin-tone complimentarily. She might have the appearance of a very beautiful young woman if it weren’t for her steely expression. Tobias strides up to her, half-confident. 

“Hello!” He gives a little wave, but she doesn’t look at him. “I’m Tobias Fletcher! The new receptionist!” He gives a gap-toothed and,_ hopefully_, friendly grin. She continues to ignore him. Tobias’ awkward continuance in standing there causes the woman to finally acknowledge him. Sighing, she meets his gaze. Her intensity takes Tobias aback for a moment as he experiences a slight fear. 

“Don’t you have something better to do?” Her slightly accented voice has a raspiness to it. She obviously doesn’t wish to be bothered. Tobias gives a nervous laugh, as he leans against the wall next to her. 

“Actually no, thanks for asking!” He grins light-heartedly. She gives him a strange look, scrunching up her nose in disgust. Tobias pays no mind, though. “I’ve never actually been to one of these parties before!” Tobias exclaims excitedly. “To say I’m nervous is an understatement, but this place is_ gorgeous!_” He swings his arms out, gesturing to the whole room animatedly. She blinks at him, obviously bored, with her arms crossed. 

“S’nothing special.” She huffs abrasively, causing the cheeriness in him to falter slightly. 

“Why not?” He tilts his head. She pushes herself off the wall with a growl, throwing her arms up. 

“This building is full of rich _wolves!_ I don’t know about _you_ Mr. Fletcher,” She says his name mockingly, finger pressing on his chest “but I don’t like associating with snobs.” She jabs a thumb in the direction of the crowd. Tobias gulps as she steps back, satisfied with the reaction. She leans against the wall again. Despite her coldness, the young receptionist is curious. 

“So... what job do you do around here?” He continues the conversation easily. She looks at him, surprised by his audacity. 

“I’m the front desk greeter.” As soon as the words left the woman’s mouth, Tobias gives a snort. Her scowl deepens as a nervous squeak escapes him. 

_“Oh!_ You were serious?” He hides his smile apologetically. The dark-haired woman rolls her eyes before focusing on the crowd. “So.” Tobias begins again. 

“So?” She asks bluntly. 

“Do you like to dance?” Tobias asks nervously, rubbing his neck. The shorter woman’s eyes seem to bore into his soul. 

“No. I don’t.” She states flatly. The shorter woman is obviously done with him, but Tobias loves to be liked. He extends a hand out to her with a grin. 

“Care to dance?” He tries nervously. A disgusted look overcomes the woman’s features. 

“Never in a million years, _receptionist_.” She spits. Tobias winces before nodding understandably. He stares at his shoes, face burning. 

“Fair enough. Good talk.” With his already frail ego blown, he walks away with his head bowed. A word from the woman stops him. 

“Wait.” She sighs, Tobias’ head turns curiously. “I don’t dance.” The woman states flatly. 

“Uhm... ok?” Tobias pulls at his collar, visibly confused. She rolls her eyes. 

“But you are welcome to keep me company, though.” She continues awkwardly. A warm smile graces Tobias’ features as he giddily returns to his prior post. She shakes her head at his childishness. 

“Thank you!” Tobias grins at her. She waves it off, nodding slightly. The woman looks back up at him. 

“Sorry. I’m not super good with people.” The shorter woman apologizes, looking off to the right. Her jaw is clenched slightly. Tobias shakes his head. 

“You’re completely fine!” He assures brightly. Surprisingly, the woman extends a hand to him. 

“Aliana Lewis. But just call me Ms. Lewis” She states her introduction matter-of-factly. Tobias shakes her hand eagerly. It is firm, yet warm. She releases his hand quickly, bringing it back to her side. Tobias coughs into his hand. 

“_So_... Ms. Lewis, how long have you worked for Ms. Charlotte?” Tobias rolls into conversation as easy as he can. Aliana thinks for a moment before counting on her fingers. 

“Coming up on five years now?” She says almost like a question to herself. Tobias’ mouth gapes. 

“That’s, like, forever ago!” He states incredulously. Aliana shrugs her shoulders. 

“Not a big deal. I was only nineteen, but it feels like just yesterday that I...” She pauses for a moment. “...worked at the front desk.” She continues hesitantly. Tobias doesn’t linger on it, though. Aliana looks toward the dance floor for a moment before her eyes widen. He tries to follow her gaze, but he can’t quite tell what captures her attention. She gets up off the wall, hastily making her way out of the ballroom. 

“H-Hey!” Tobias calls out after her. “Where are you going?” Aliana looks over her shoulder at him, eyes filled with badly concealed rage. 

“There’s some business I have to take care of. Be careful.” She hisses before rushing off. Tobias is left in a confused stupor as he looks around the room. Be careful? Why would he need to be careful? He makes his way toward the table of food, hoping to appear occupied. The lonely young man apologizes as he moves past groups of annoyed guests. The table of delicious foods is in his sights now. Tobias can almost smell the delicacies before he collides into the back of someone. 

Tobias almost bounces right off him, while the mystery man stands eerily still. Despite his own yelp of surprise, the stranger is as silent as the dead. Not even a breath of surprise escapes him! 

_ “Oof!_” Tobias huffs as he takes a few steps back. He walks over to the man, attempting to apologize by placing a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, I’m so so _sorry_, sir! I didn’t mean to-” But the words die in his throat as the man turns around. Deep scars cover his mouth in an unsettling way, and his cold green eyes never seem to blink. He has sharp and handsome features that seem to be dampened by his cold demeanor. The man says nothing, but waves off the incident with his hands. Tobias gulps nervously, soaking in every detail of the man. A certain symbol is on a pin attached to his long black trench coat. A little silver snake curled in a circle, eating his own tail. The pin catches the light, glinting grimly. 

“Uhm, sir? Are you sure you’re ok?” Tobias reaches out to him, but the man grabs it with intense force. “_O-Ow,_ sir, you’re...you’re hurting me.” Tobias winces, trying to yank his arm back, but the man holds his death grip. His eyes bore into his own. Tobias begs him, yanking his arm, but the man’s grip is strong. Some eyes are now focused on the pair as muttering ensues. 

“Let him go!” Maxime shouts aggressively, a pistol in hand. Somehow, he found Tobias, and now currently stands three feet across from them. Tobias makes eye-contact with Maxime in shock. The music stops abruptly and the crowd hushes. The man pauses for a moment, a flurry of emotions passing through his eyes. A pistol is suddenly raised to Tobias’ temple, causing shrieks of terror from everyone including himself. 

“_Please!_ Don’t hurt me!” Tobias begs, arms raised in fear. He feels the sweat drip against the barrel pointed at his head. One shot, and he disappears forever. Nancy will grow up without a brother to protect her. His family will have to thrive without him. Tobias’ life seems to flash before his eyes. The image of his Mother kissing his head, or his Father’s back as he leaves for the Great War is in Tobias’ mind. His eyes water and his heart races. He can feel his entire body tremble. Maxime holds his hand up. 

“Arthur!” He spits venomously. The mystery man’s eyes flash the same energy in response. He inclines his head mockingly, nudging the barrel further into the side of the poor receptionist’s head. Tobias whimpers in response. “Leave. The kid. Out of this!” Maxime shouts, but Arthur makes no attempt in moving. Instead, he stares down at Maxime’s gun nonchalantly. Maxime tightens his hold on it. 

Meanwhile, the crowd rushes toward the exit before being stopped by a group of armed men and women. The cronies appear to have disguised as guests in order to get in. Screams of terror erupt from the partiers as they are corralled into the middle of the ballroom. Marcus and Winnie are among them, muttering to each other quietly and fearfully. Authoritative shouts are heard, but Tobias is too busy trying not to die. 

“I-I don’t have money.” Tobias sputters pitifully. “Why are you doing this?” Maxime instructs him to hush. Arthur moves the gun slightly to the right and pulls the trigger. The bang causes Tobias to shout in fear and jump back. More screams are heard from everyone else, but he is too scared to care. Maxime’s bares his teeth, but Arthur shows nothing but mild amusement. Tobias’ legs are wobbling, and his ears are ringing from the bullet. 

“Arthur. Put the gun down._ Now._” Maxime growls sternly, but the scarred man smiles playfully. He makes a finger gun with his free hand, pantomiming a head shot on himself. The childlike joy never falters as he turns his attention back to Tobias. He cocks the gun in Tobias’ direction. 

“Put. It. _DOWN!_” A shaking voice of a British woman is heard as Ms. Charlotte appears. A pistol is in her hands, and she points it at Arthur steadily. A flicker of emotion passes through Arthur’s gaze quickly, but is soon diminished. He shakes his head, hand never moving. Tobias watches him, a fight or flight instinct building within him. Meanwhile, the crowd is maintained unwillingly by Arthur’s friends. 

“Listen to her, Arthur!” Maxime shouts, eyes flashing wildly. He looks at Tobias and makes eye contact with Ms. Charlotte. She nods wordlessly. 

“Artie, love.” Her voice is rich with emotion. Tobias swears he almost saw Arthur’s eyes soften. Nevertheless, he stands still. “You don’t have to do this! You can come home! To us!” Ms. Charlotte begs gently. Arthur’s hand shakes, unfocused. Maxime and Tobias make eye contact, and Maxime mouths something to him. _Wait._ Tobias nods, swallowing the bile rising in his throat. Ms. Charlotte continues. 

“We used to be so happy, Artie.” She says sweetly as Arthur holds her gaze silently. The dangerously close weapon shakes from Arthur’s trembling hand. Tobias takes a leap of faith as the moment becomes unbearable. He rushes to the side, barely missing the bullet whizzing past his hear, and rushes toward the exit. Gunshots are heard behind him as Maxime’s voice is in the background. 

“RUN KID!” He shouts. Arthur’s friends are too distracted by the commotion of bullets being traded, that they do not notice Tobias’ quick escape. He speeds outside the ballroom, tailcoat flying behind him. The hallway becomes a blur and the noise seems fuzzy. Tobias can hear his own heartbeat in his ears. The feeling of dread consumes him as he stands at the building’s exit. His friends are back there. 

Tobias looks behind him as the sound of bullets are hushed. How many have died? How did they all have weapons? How did Maxime and Ms. Charlotte know how to use them? Tobias places a hand on his chest, breathing heavily. He thinks he might be having a panic attack. Adrenaline is pumping through his veins, but he must assess the situation carefully. Looking at the landline, he decides on calling the police. Walking up to it, Tobias notices a problem immediately. Whoever Arthur is, he must have planned this attack ahead of time. The line is completely severed! Tobias thinks for a moment. 

_ ‘What do I do?’_ He bites his thumb nail. _‘If I don’t help, they are all gonna die.’_ A couple of uncontrollable tears stream down his face before he angrily rubs them away. ‘Grow up!’ he berates. He thinks for a moment, before landing on a really really bad plan. He rushes to the dressing room. 


	8. Don't Feel Quite Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tobias Fletcher has to figure out a quick way to save his friends, and it might take some ingenuity to do so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes...I split up and edited the chapter. Sorry, not sorry. Editing stuff, y'know?  
DISCLAIMER: The title is of a song by my fav band Palaye Royale. 
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4toIcm2VpKUJXFVclHsNgg?si=NpTHEqUVT8SF0WnuUzWlxA

The remaining hair gel is _finally_ out of his hair, and Tobias is back to his old dorky self.

He is currently looking through multiple drawers of the outlandish dressing room. Luckily for him, the place is full of multiple things common people might not ever experience. Contact lenses are a rare luxury, and they are now Tobias’ ticket to freedom. He locates a pair of brown ones to disguise his singular blue one. 

Putting them in is the difficulty, as Tobias flinches every time his finger comes close to his right eye. Finally, it’s in, and it is enough to aid in the façade. Tobias pulls his dark hair back in a small ponytail and finds a pair of circular spectacles. He changes into a dark blue button down, with expensive gold cufflinks (Don’t tell Maxime) to complete the look. Tobias looks at himself in the mirror. Not bad. He rushes out the door, making his way toward the pantry. There is an old recipe he remembers hearing his dad talk about as a kid. 

_~~The pantry~~ _

Tobias fumbles through the spice rack in the dark before landing on the red pepper flakes and cayenne pepper. The pantry happens to be well stocked with just about everything! He grabs a couple of unnamed chilis along with the other two ingredients. He extracts the pepper seeds and takes a generous portion of everything. Getting out a pale-yellow mixing bowl, he adds the dry ingredients at the kitchen counter. Tobias draws some water from the sink and combines the liquid with the bowl’s ingredients. After mixing, he adds a generous squeeze of a lemon that he cut in half. That seems like enough. All Tobias needs is something to spray with it. Afterall, he can’t just dump it on somebody! 

He places a finger on his chin, thinking for a moment. An idea strikes him. He brings his bowl quietly down the hallway, hearing faint yells muffled in the background. Tobias finally finds a storage closet containing a cleaning spray bottle. He untwists the top, dumping out its chemical contents, before replacing it with his mixture. Now that his a makeshift weapon is made, he needs to get out of here. He exits the storage closet. 

Tobias looks down the hallway before spotting a familiar red box on the wall. The phone is cut, but Arthur’s men seem to have forgotten that fire alarms existed. He rushes over and yanks the lever down, which causes an ear-shattering ring to resonate throughout the whole building. Angry shouts and the sound of footsteps are heard around him. He walks out in the hallway, looking around. Tobias watches as some of the henchmen rush past. He mirrors their expression, pretending like he belongs here. One of the men shouts at him from behind in the hallway. 

“Hey you!” He growls. Tobias freezes in the hallway. “Yea!_You!”_ Tobias hesitantly turns around, face blank. The man is shorter than him, with a scruffy beard and thick eyebrows. Tobias creates his own enraged aura. 

“_Someone_ hit the alarm!” Tobias shouts at him angrily, as the man hesitantly steps back. “You are the one responsible for keeping watch,_ idiot!_” He seethes. The gruff man, taken aback, fumbles around nervously. 

“You won’t tell the boss, will ya?” He whimpers. “We’re supposed to take care of our own, y’know?” Tobias bares his teeth before rolling his eyes. 

“You pathetic_ worm!_” He dramatically places his fingers on the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. “Fine! You’re off the hook-,” A relieved smile forms on the shorter man’s face. “-but! If I _ever_ catch you slacking again.” He growls. “Let’s just say, you better hope you’re still alive, pinhead. _Scram!”_ The man scampers off quickly, stumbling over himself. Tobias looks around frantically, nodding to the hectic henchmen that he passes. He begins to think things are going considerably well before one of Arthur’s men shouts at him in the hallway leading up to the ballroom. 

“Stop right there!” A bald man in his 40s shouts to him. Tobias turns around, smiling as calmly as he can muster. The blaring of the alarm continues. 

“Anything I can do for you, sir?” Tobias asks politely. The henchman scowls, placing a hand on his gun. Tobias doesn’t hesitate, pulling out the spray bottle. The man misses a shot as he is sprayed in the eyes by the young man. Tobias refuses to wait a second to see what happens. He runs as fast as he can. His heart races as he hides behind one of the pillars, listening. The screams of Mr. Baldie attract the attention of his friends. 

“Oh, poor Timothy! What happened to you?” Tobias hears on of the men ask mockingly as his heartbeat quickens. Luckily for him, Mr. Baldie is in too much pain to give him away. “Come on. We need to get out of here._ Fast!_” Tobias hears footsteps disappear from the room. He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. As he turns his head, he is met by a gun to his face. The one holding the gun is none other than Ms. Aliana Lewis herself. Her familiar angry scowl is almost comforting if it weren’t for the weapon in Tobias’ face. 

“Ms. Lewis. it’s me.” Tobias hisses under his breath, “Tobias.” She tilts her head at him. 

“Prove it.” She makes no effort to lower her weapon. Tobias thinks frantically. 

“Uhm... let’s see.” Tobias is lost in thought. “You warned me against eating chocolate pudding that one time!” He exclaims excitedly. Aliana’s weapon lowers slowly before returning to his face again. 

“But the _real_ Tobias has freaky eyes! You have two normal ones!” Aliana growls. Tobias huffs. 

“First off: rude. Second, I’m wearing contacts! I’m in disguise!” She drops her weapon again before returning it to his face...a third time. 

“The_ real_ Tobias wouldn’t think of something so intelligent!” Aliana exclaims causing Tobias to groan with frustration. He slaps his hand against his face. 

“If I were a bad guy, then why am I horribly unarmed?” Tobias tries to reason with the shorter woman. “And why am I the only one here unarmed anyways?!” He asks more to himself in disbelief. Aliana drops her weapon,_ finally_, and inclines her head in the direction of the ballroom. 

“Arthur made a run for it. The police are outside. We’re-_They’re_ bringing in a lot of prisoners to question about today’s event. I don’t know _who_ pulled that alarm.” She shakes her head before glancing at him questionably. Tobias gives a sheepish smile. 

“Guess we’ll never know?” He suggests as Aliana plays along with a fake shrug. Tobias walks down the hallway with Aliana beside him. A thought occurs to him. “Did...Did anyone get hurt?” Tobias asks nervously, walking toward the front of the building. 

“A few were shot. One dead, others are in urgent care right now.” She states bluntly causing a surge of fear to pass through him. _Oh no._ Aliana seems to pick up on this. “Hey, listen.” Tobias meets her gaze, trembling slightly. “Your friends are probably fine, Fletcher.” Aliana states gruffly, but it’s the thought that counts he guesses. As they exit the building together, he watches as some injured people are carried out on stretchers. Tobias walks down the steps, trying not to freak out. He looks around frantically until... 

A whimper passes through Tobias’ lips as he spots Marcus and Winnie sitting together. Marcus has a dark bruise forming around his cheek with a deep cut. The blood coming out of the cut is currently being dabbed at by Winnie. She whispers something to him but stops when she notices Tobias running over to them excitedly. 

“You guys are ok!!” Tobias chokes out a small sob as he encompasses them both in a hug. They both respond with a confused gasp. “I was so worried about you two.” He breathes, a shiver of relief coming over him. 

“Who the heck are _you_?” Winnie asks, confused. Marcus also gives him a strange look. Realization hits Tobias and he gives a chuckle. 

“It’s me! Tobias!” Their mouths make a tiny ‘o’ as they tackle him in a new hug. Tears stream down Winnie’s face as they both hold him. “I’m just glad you’re both safe.” Tobias nuzzles into them. 

“So you _do_ care!” Marcus huffs, but he can hear the emotion in his voice. Tobias pulls away and looks at them both. He subconsciously touches the cut, to which Marcus winces slightly. 

“How did _that_ happen?” Tobias asks, concerned. Winnie and Marcus share an embarrassed look, and she nods for the blond to reply. 

“They...they grabbed her... They tried to threaten her.” He says, face reddened with anger and something else as his fist clenches. Marcus’ knuckles are red with some dried blood on it. Tobias looks between them. 

"They didn't...do anything right? Or try to?" Tobias asks, concerned. Winnie's hands fly up in nervous defense.

"Oh! No not at all, sweetheart!" She adds quickly. "They were just going to...separate us." She adds in the last bit, a tad embarrassed. Marcus looks at the floor while Winnie stares off, rubbing her arms self-consciously. Tobias looks back and forth between the two, quite confused by the awkward silence. 

“So... I can’t imagine how that felt. I'm sorry that happened.” Tobias' gaze is sincere. Marcus gives a slight nod. “Must’ve been difficult.” The flirt gives a nervous cough in his fist. 

“Yea, uh, I guess...” He trails off. Winnie’s gives a confused look. 

“So I guess I should leave you two..._”_ He smiles awkwardly, turning to walk away. “Glad you both are safe!” The young man calls over his shoulder. He doesn't have time to process the uncomfortable air between the two. Time to find out where Maxime and Ms. Charlotte are. 

Tobias walks around, looking among the sea of faces. Some of the guests appear rattled and stay silent. Others talk fervently to the rushing paramedics. He finally spots the familiar face of Maxime. A giggle of relief bubbles out of Tobias as he tackles the older man. 

“I’ve known you for two days and I already feel like you are my bestie!” Tobias confesses as he hugs Mr. Stanford. The fancy gentleman chuckles, hugging him back. 

“Do I know you?” He asks jokingly as Tobias laughs in response. “No seriously! That disguise is_ crazy_, Fletcher!” 

“It’s a long story.” Tobias confesses, looking back over his shoulder at the building. 

“You little idiot! You had me worried for a moment, kid.” He sighs. Tobias laughs, releasing Maxime from the hug. A thought occurs to him. 

“Where’s Ms. Charlotte?” He asks nervously, looking around. Maxime sighs, looking at one of the ambulances. 

“She got a bullet to the shoulder, but she’ll be ok.” He reassures. Tobias breathes out in relief. 

“I’m just happy you both are alive.” Tobias admits, smiling. Maxime shoves his shoulder affectionately. 

“Same about you, kid.” They walk off to the side to allow the paramedics to pass through easy. A nagging thought has been bothering Tobias all night, so he finally pops the question. 

“How do you know that guy anyways? Arthur, right?” Maxime flinches at the name, eyes unfocused. 

“An old friend.” Maxime states flatly, refusing to go any deeper than that. Tobias crosses his arms, eyebrow raised. 

“Ok... And how did you all suddenly have weapons? At a ball?” He questions. Maxime holds up a hand. 

“I think you should come with me.” He sighs tiredly. Suddenly, a loud sound comes from above, causing the rattled receptionist to cover his ears. A silver helicopter lands gracefully in front. The sound is almost as loud as the gunshot near Tobias’ head...almost. “Right this way then!” Maxime yells over the sound, extending an arm toward the helicopter. 

“But... but what about my family!?” Tobias shouts. Maxime dismisses the question with a wave of his hand. 

“No time for questions!” And at that, Tobias makes his way on to the helicopter without hesitation. He_ must_ get answers. Something isn’t right about what happened tonight. And he is going to find out. 


	9. Rag Doll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tobias Fletcher realizes the truth about his friends. The emotions from that night get to him. How will he decide to go about this? Will he run? Or will he take a leap of faith?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woooooh another chapter! Enjoy! I may edit in between.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: The title is a song created by Aerosmith (and also) a good and completely different song by Palaye Royale. Both fit tbh. I suggest the playlist below.  
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4toIcm2VpKUJXFVclHsNgg?si=Gy_JoaYrRMi9LDJXXtse0A

Tobias realizes quickly that he is _terrified_ of heights. 

He is currently covering his ears over the noise, trying not to throw up in a helicopter. Maxime sits next to him, admiring the view in a much more composed manner. The bright cityscape of Harlem can be seen underneath. Tobias tries to prevent himself from throwing up as he realizes how high up they are. Tobias’ hands clench underneath his seat as he shuts his eyes tight. The breeze tousles his messy hair, causing chills to climb up his spine. His heart never stops racing before they actually land. An established skyscraper sits before them. No company name is seen to indicate what the building is for. Maxime turns to Tobias once they are on the ground. 

“Ey Fletcher, you alright there, bud? You look like you’re going to throw up.” Little does Maxime know, Tobias feels like he’s about to. Surprisingly, none of it was from the helicopter flight. The events of tonight are finally getting to him, and he can feel himself tremble all over. He managed to change out of his disguise earlier and back into his normal clothes. The whole process of it all _terrified_ him. Tobias feels as though an icy claw is dancing along his skin. It’s cold fingertips reminiscent of the cold of the metal gun. He can almost feel the object pressed against his temple, threatening to blow his brains out. Muffled screams still ring in his ears. A snap of Maxime’s fingers in his face brings Tobias out of his reverie. 

“Sorry?” Tobias croaks, making eye contact with the concerned man sitting next to him. Maxime still looks put together mentally, despite his more disheveled outer appearance. Meanwhile, Tobias feels as though he’s breaking out in a cold sweat. 

“I think you should see a nurse, kid.” Maxime states, getting out of the helicopter. Tobias follows out of the helicopter before he crumbles to the grass. A small sob bubbles out of his throat as tears threaten the corners of his eyes. 

“How can you be so calm about this?!” Tobias’ voice shakes as he feels the tears finally breaking loose. “I have_ no_ clue where we are, -” He gestures around him. “-I don’t know _what_ happened tonight! But I-I need answers, and-!” 

“_Tobias_!” Maxime grabs his shoulders firmly. Tobias gives a yelp of surprise, sniffling a little. He fearfully meets the composed man’s gaze. “Everything will become clear, alright? Just come inside with me, okay kid?” He reasons softly. Tobias rubs his eyes and gives a shaky nod. He shakes his head quickly to rid himself of the tears. After a moment, a thought occurs to him. 

“But- but my family! They need to know I’m ok!” Maxime holds his hand up to stop him. 

“My assistant already called them.” He assures. The distraught receptionist gives him an incredulous look. He pulls away from Maxime. 

“How do you have their numbers?!” Tobias gapes, but the older man silences him with his finger. 

“We keep tabs on everyone, kid.” Maxime states honestly, standing up from the grass. He brushes himself off and his mouth is in a tight line. Maxime walks ahead, beckoning the younger man to follow. Tobias joins him in a daze, not quite sure how to take the recent information. 

Two well-dressed men exit the massive building to meet them. They are dressed in identical black and white suits, which gives them a very polished appearance. Their faces are grim as they make brief eye contact with Tobias. He gives a hesitant little wave to the men, to which they both ignored. Tobias gulps as both he and Maxime make their way into the building. 

The inside isn’t _nearly_ as glamorous as the event company. If anything, it is more _practical_ rather than frivolous. The floors are simple brown ceramic, with a slight sheen to them. The walls are painted a light and uninteresting grey. In the middle of the wall on the right, a large logo is neatly painted on. A massive and prestigious looking eagle appears is situated in the center of it. Its wings are outstretched, and its beak is wide open in attack. The dangerous black talons appear as though they are about to snatch something off the ground. Underneath it is the letters_ HNYSA. _

Tobias’ sneakers squeak on the recently waxed floor as he and Maxime make their way down a spacious hallway. He had changed back into them earlier when he was working on his disguise. Their squeaky reminder gives him chills about tonight’s events. He pushes back the thought quickly as they make their way into a large room. A gasp of surprise escapes Tobias as he looks around the room. His face reddens considerably since the space is packed _full_ of people. 

Inside the room is a massive long table _covered_ in piles of random files. Multiple leather green chairs line the entire length of the table. A giant whiteboard sits at the head of it, covered in multiple scribblings of random notes and diagrams. The aspect of the room that flusters Tobias is that the room isn’t just full of several men. It is jam-packed with _prestigious_ men! Some young, some old, all decorated with medals. A few of the men dressed in navy blue formal wear, decorated with gold buttons. Most of them wore bulletproof bests and wore the expression of a soldier. They seem to have been discussing tactics before they entered. Now they all turn and stare at Tobias questioningly. 

“Good evening, gentleman.” Maxime inclines his head in greeting. An elderly fellow, maybe in his 50s, stands up from his chair. Aged appearance aside, the man carries an intimidating air about him. There is no trace of brittleness about him. 

“Hello, Mr. Stanford.” His voice is gruff and scratchy. Despite the man’s honorable stance, there is a hint of exhaustion behind his serious tone. “Is _this_ the kid?” The older man asks, causing Tobias to flinch. The way the man posed the question makes him sound almost unimpressed. Maxime nods his head, placing a firm hand on Tobias’ shoulder. The shorter boy looks up at him, confused. 

“Yes, General Miller. Meet Tobias Fletcher.” Maxime introduces him as though he’s an important official. Tobias awkwardly holds out a hand in greeting. Much to his surprise, the sergeant grasps it firmly and places another hand on top of his own. A small smile tugs at his gently wrinkled face. His eyes crinkled as well. 

“My boy!” He exclaims with such intense glee that Tobias is taken aback. “So_ you_ are the one responsible for saving my men!” The General’s eyes hold an intense fir in them. The receptionist lets out a bunch of confused noises, trying to comprehend what the man just said. Suddenly, the small room erupts in loud applause, including Maxime beside him. Several of the men whisper amongst themselves. Some look joyful, others appear threatened. Tobias looks around the room, unsure of what to do. 

“I-I don’t understand.” He squeaks with confusion. Everything appears to be happening so fast that he can’t comprehend what’s going on anymore. He just wants to go home now and see Nancy. He wants to curl in a ball and be comforted by Mrs. Capaldi’s soothing voice. Even_ Lucardo’s_ annoyed jabs would bring Tobias comfort right about now. 

“The security cameras picked up on it.” Gen. Miller states after the applause dies down. “You’ve got _some_ kind of brain there, kid.” He nods his head approvingly. Maxime looks at Tobias like a proud father. “How did you even think of it?” He asks, amazed. 

“Well...” Tobias trails off nervously. “Anyone would have pulled the alarm.” He states finally. The General shakes his head. 

“I’m talking about your_ street smarts_, kid. You essentially infiltrated their ranks!” He states, flabbergasted. Tobias’ face reddens a little, due to the attention. He looks at his shoes. 

“I... I wouldn’t say _‘infiltrated.’_” He mumbles shyly, looking up. Everyone in the room is looking at him in awe. As though he is some kind of _hero._ Tobias doesn’t feel like a hero though. Maxime coughs into his fist to signal their attention. He nudges his head to where Tobias is standing. Recollection finally meets the General’s eyes. 

“Ah. I _almost_ forgot!” He gasps. “Tobias.” Gen. Miller looks at him seriously now. His arms are behind his back. 

“Y-Yes, sir?” He cringes at the squeaky pitch of his own voice. He bites his lip nervously. 

“What do ya say you join the academy?” He asks with a tilt of his head. Intense confusion floods through Tobias. _Academy? What Academy?_

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean, sir.” Tobias confesses, eyebrows furrowing. Maxime is the one to speak now. 

“Fletcher. There’s a lot going on in this city you don’t understand.” He sighs. Tobias scrunches his face up in obvious bewilderment. “Those people that you saw tonight...” Maxime runs a shaky hand through his sleek hair. “-they want to hurt _a lot_ of people. Just like in the...in the War.” He shivers at those words. 

“Wait...” Tobias mutters in a barely audible whisper. “Are you saying there could be _another_ Holocaust? Another Gulag incident?” He gasps, covering his mouth and hoping it isn’t true. But Maxime’s silence answers the question for him. “No...” Tobias squishes his cheeks together, trying to prevent the tears from flowing again. Maxime’s firm hand on his shoulder snaps him back into focus. Tobias looks up at him, deeply unsettled. 

“That’s why we’re here, kid. To prevent a mess like tonight’s from ever happening again.” He conveys gently. “Thanks to you, a_ lot_ less people got hurt tonight.” Maxime smiles proudly. Tobias stares back at his shoes. _Still...Some got hurt._

Suddenly, footsteps are heard coming through the doorway. It is the distinct sound of high heels. Everyone turns to see... 

“Charlotte!” Maxime exclaims loudly, relief evident on his face. Ms. Charlotte stands in the doorway, arm in a sling. Her attire is more comfortable and less formal due to her current injury. Slight dark circles are formed under her eyes, but a determined look in them diminishes it. 

“Hello boys!” Her voice is raspy from exhaustion, but cheery, nonetheless. “Did everyone miss me?” She smiles jokingly. Maxime rushes to her, a tad too excited, before slowing down. 

“You’re...you’re ok?” He asks, concerned. Ms. Charlotte rolls her eyes, waving her hand. 

“Oh, please, Maxime. Cut it out, will you? It was only a shot to the arm.” She moves her arm slightly, to show she’s fine. Tobias’ eyes widen in shock. 

“You got shot in the arm, and you act like it’s no big deal!” He exclaims, clutching his hair. Ms. Charlotte shrugs nonchalantly. 

“Dear, don’t get your knickas’ in a bunch. This isn’t my first gunshot wound, and it _definitely_ won’t be the last.” She states with a sigh. Tobias is only able to stare in amazement. 

“She’s a tough cookie, this one.” General Miller nods to Ms. Charlotte fondly. “I pray that your arm is in good shape, Ms. Montgomery?” The blonde Brit answers it with a confident nod. Tobias looks around the room at this tough bunch. Some of them appear tired or disheartened, but still have their heads raised high. A determined fire glows in their eyes that Tobias finds infectious. An intense desire to deal out justice is felt throughout the room. The young boy comes to a certain decision because of it. 

“I’ll do it.” He states. Everyone turns to look at him, causing him to fluster a little. Nevertheless, he continues. “I’ll join you.” Maxime opens his mouth, but Tobias beats him to it. “But first, I want to know what is going on!” He shouts. He can’t tell whether it is from stress, exhaustion, or the mere confusion of it all. 

“You...want to join the Academy?” Maxime’s eyes widen in surprise. Ms. Charlotte, the General, and everyone in the room seem shocked by Tobias’ decision. 

“Yes. I want to join!” He declares bravely. He isn’t quite sure how or why. Maybe to have a second chance to do _something_ like his Pops. Or maybe it’s to escape this monotonous life. Whatever the reason, Tobias feels in his core that this is the right thing to do. Everyone stares at him before exchanging looks. Finally, Gen. Miller strides forward. 

“Son, are you _sure_ you’re willing? Your life will be on the line constantly.” He reminds seriously. Tobias ponders to himself, doubt creeping in. The series of events that went on was _crazy_. During that time, he felt completely helpless on the other side of that gun. He doesn’t want to feel that way anymore. 

“Yes. I’m willing.” 

_ ~~Two hours later~~_

“You absolute _idiot!”_ Tobies mutters to himself as he walks home. It is pitch black outside, only lit by streetlamps. “What were you thinking?!” He asks himself aloud as he smacks his head. Regret floods through him as he thinks about everything that had transpired over tonight. 

_“Welcome to the HNYSA kid. I want you here by 6:00am SHARP tomorrow, y’hear me, Fletcher?” _

Tobias can hear Maxime’s voice bouncing across his skull. The worry creeps into his mind as he walks down the street. He can almost imagine Mrs. Capaldi’s outrage on how late he came back. She’d make a series of hand gestures and loud Italian curses. Tobias almost smiles at the thought of it. He’ll have to come up with a story_ fast. _

As he walks, he hears loud barking coming from the alleyway to his right. Tobias turns his head to look, making eye contact with the source of that voice. A sleek Doberman barks madly in his direction. Around her neck is a crude looking rope that appears to have been gnawed on for quite some time. Her barks have now silenced into soft whimpers as Tobias walks towards her. 

“Sh sh _shhh_.” Tobias holds his hands up to calm the poor dog down. “I’m not gonna hurt ya, pretty girl.” He says gently. The Doberman yanks her head back to solidify the fact that she does _not_ want to be here. Tobias holds his hand out to her to see if she’ll let him help her. The distressed pooch sniffs at it before looking away. He takes it as a sign that it’s ok. Gently, Tobias grabs the knot on her worn leather collar. Slowly but surely, he manages to get the knot loose enough so she can yank herself free. 

The Doberman rushes forward, causing a yelp of fear from Tobias. He shuts his eyes tight, only to be surprised by the muscular dog licking his hand. He gives out a giggle before petting between her pointy ears. 

“You’re a beautiful girl, aren’t ya?” He coos as the dog seems to smile in response. Tobias laughs as he scratches behind her ears and her back. She gives an affectionate whine in response. He looks down at her, realizing just how thin she actually is. 

_ ‘I can’t just leave her here.’_ He reasons to himself, biting his thumb. The Doberman seems to pick up on his thoughts, because she is now looking up at him expectantly. 

“Ok. _Fine!”_ He sighs, as the dog wags her nub in response. “But! You’re gonna need a name!” He smiles as the Doberman tilts her head. “Hmm...what about Athena?” He asks as the dog barks in response. That name shall stick for now. He whistles for the dog to follow him as he makes his way toward his house. Athena rushes alongside him excitedly. 

Tobias walks up the steps of his house and hesitantly reaches for the handle. Before he can reach it, the door flies open quickly. Little Nancy stares up at him, wide eyed and sleepy. 

“Momma is gonna kill you.” She yawns before catching sight of Athena. “Puppy!” She squeals before wrapping her arms around the poor dog’s neck. Luckily, Athena enjoys the attention, and returns it with a sloppy kiss on Nancy’s face. Nancy giggles loudly as Tobias watches the sight with a smile. The heartwarming moment doesn’t last long, though, as the face of a very outraged Mrs. Capaldi stands by the door. Her arms are crossed, her hair is in rollers, and her baby blue robe is on. The expression on her face is enough to _terrify_ him. 

“Where have you been, _idiota?_” She spits angrily, voice shaking. Before Tobias can answer, she walks forward and pulls him into a hug. Shock emits from Tobias, followed by a hollow sob. He wraps his arms around her as well, hiding his face in her robe. He soon feels little Nancy’s arms wrap around his midsection and hears footsteps coming over. There stands Mr. Capaldi, shaking his head knowingly. Beside him is Lucardo, who hides his relief with annoyance. 

“_See!_ I told ya the boy was fine.” Mr. Capaldi chuckles with a smile. Lucardo rolls his eyes, arms crossed. 

“_Please._ I’m surprised Tobias lasted this long.” Lucardo mutters, as the topic of conversation gives him a small smile. Tears stain Tobias’ face as he sniffles. Warmth floods his chest as he looks at his family. Athena seems to have made herself at home, now lying by his feet. Mrs. Capaldi looks down at the dog. 

“Why did you bring a dog here?” She tilts her head, scrunching her nose up. In response, Athena woofs softly. Lucardo gives the dog a disgusted look. 

“I found her!” Tobias clasps his hands together giddily. Athena barks in excitement along with him. “I figured...” He taps the tips of his pointer fingers together and squeezes his eyes closed. “Perhaps she could...stay?” he peeks with one eye. Nancy jumps up and down, yanking Mrs. Capaldi’s arm. 

“Please, please, _please_, Momma!” She begs, pushing her bottom lip out and pressing her hands together. Nancy gives her very convincing puppy dog eyes. Mrs. Capaldi sighs and looks to her husband. Mr. Capaldi answers her with a shrug as she looks back at the dog. 

“Tobias.” She says finally, causing him to look at her eagerly. “You can keep her. But you _better_ take care of her, _ragazzo_.” Mrs. Capaldi tuts. Tobias gives a shout for joy as he rubs Athena’s belly. Both the Capaldi’s and Nancy walk upstairs to put her to bed. Their son remains behind, though. Lucardo strides up to him, looking at his nails. 

“Where did you go anyways, Fletcher?” He asks nosily. Tobias thinks for a moment. 

_‘Should I tell them where I will be working from now on?’_ He decides that probably won’t be for the best. For their peace of mind, he will retain the lie. 

“I was at work all day. There was a ball tonight, but I didn’t stay long.” He lies. Lucardo raises his brow to him. 

“Then where were you?” He presses, eyes narrowing. Tobias feels his heart race a little. He looks to Athena and comes up with something. 

“Saving this girl had taken me awhile.” He smiles, hopefully, easily as he gestures to the dog. Lucardo gives a short and mocking laugh. 

“And here I thought you were _almost_ interesting.” Lucardo spits contemptuously. Tobias flinches at his remark. _If only he knew._ He gets up and brushes himself off. 

“I know you were worried about me, Lucardo.” Tobias sighs, shaking his head. His stepbrother's nostrils flare with rage as he looks at Tobias incredulously. 

“A-As_ if!”_ Lucardo seethes before stomping out of the room. Tobias looks after him solemnly, realizing that he’s going to have to live out this lie. 

Starting tomorrow, he’s going to train to become an American spy. 


	10. Song of the Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tobias' memories come back to him in snippets through his dreams. Some are harsher than others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will have more memories and snippets as Tobias dreams to provide clarity of course! I will try to edit this some more as needed! The next chapter or two will come soon because I split it up due to it being too long lol.  
**DISCLAIMER: The lullaby is an Irish folk song called "Song of the Sea by Nolween Leroy.
> 
> OH! And another note!! The character, Aliana Lewis was created by my friend! Her acc is maccycheese, and her own personal story is quite fantastic as well!! 
> 
> Also, the song is available in the playlist for the album.  
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4toIcm2VpKUJXFVclHsNgg?si=PuATlnWGSwyHGLcvJn8_zw

A familiar sound fills Tobias’ ears; a lullaby. 

He looks around his old home, grinning ear to ear, as he smells his mother’s stew cooking. Tobias rushes down the creaky steps and into the kitchen. There, his mother sips her creation with a wooden spoon. She hums to herself before realizing the little boy is there. She grins down at the boy, brushing her dark brown hair out of her mismatched eyes. 

“Hello, little Tobby.” She grins as she notices his obvious distaste in the nickname. Little Tobias’ face scrunches up in displeasure. He skips over to the stove, pulling down gently on her apron. 

“Momma, when is Daddy coming home tonight?” Tobias blinks up at her innocently. A solemn look graces his mother’s features as she brushes the hair out of his eyes. She leans down, planting a gentle kiss on his forehead. 

“Baby, Daddy has to work late tonight.” She sighs. Tobias crosses his arms and pouts, causing the young mother to laugh. “Don’t make that face, Tobias.” She pinches his cheek teasingly, causing Tobias to giggle in response. “Daddy’s gotta work_ hard_ so we can eat dinner tonight.” She explains to him.

Tobias just huffs in response, making his mom sigh in defeat. She places the spoon on the counter and walks over to the couch. She beckons for him to follow and Tobias does so obediently. His mom plops in front of the fireplace as Tobias wordlessly sits in her lap. She rests her chin on his head, rocking back and forth. His mom holds out her gentle hands in front of her, which he places his small ones in. She begins to sing softly as little Tobias closes his eyes. 

_ “Hush now, mo stóirín _

_ Close your eyes and sleep _

_ Waltzing the waves _

_ Diving in the deep.-” _

“Dad!” Tobias exclaims, giggling as he rushes to meet the tall man. An aging man carries this title. He resembles someone who was beaten down by society when walks toward the house with a defeated slouch. Hunger and poverty are the current problems this decade. The effects of it are very apparent since the man's shirt, although small, hangs loosely off his frame. He turns his head to notice his son rushing up to meet him. Tobias’ Dad blinks his tired and sunken in brown eyes at him. 

Tobias grins ear to ear, clutching a baseball and mitt in his little hands. He looks up at his Dad expectantly, wriggling in excitement. His Dad stares at him for a long time before staggering toward the house, ignoring him. Tobias faces the back of his Dad, crestfallen, as he drops the ball. It falls to the ground with a thud. 

_“Stars are shining bright _

_ The wind is on the rise _

_ Whispering words of long lost lullabies.-” _

Tobias looks out the window solemnly. The past few weeks there has been a draft. Outside his window stands a long line of petrified young men stand. Some are older, most resemble _children_. The older men carry a steely gaze, accepting their fate. The young ones would bite at their nails, shaking in their boots. A sign out front reads: _‘Young Able-Bodied Men Needed’_ Tobias didn’t understand why his own Father needed to enlist. He didn’t understand the draft in general. 

He turns his head to meet the worried gaze of his Mother, who is now staring outside the window. She hides her concern quickly when she makes eye contact with her son. 

“He’ll be back every few months, they said.” Momma assures hopefully, clasping her hands together. The little boy notices her trembling, though. Tobias’ eyes knit together as he looks at the floor. 

“Momma?” He asks, to which she meets his gaze again. “Will he die?” A look of intense anger passes through his Mother’s gaze at the question. 

“Go to your room!” She shouts, causing Tobias to shrink in fear. She claps her hands together loudly, causing him to flinch. “I said, _go to your room!_” She yells again, eyes watery. Tobias leaves quickly, muffling his sobs as he runs up the stairs. He slams his door shut, staring out of his window with tears streaming down his face. Tobias buries his face in his pillow, almost in an attempt to disappear. 

Elsewhere, his Mother curls in a ball on the floor. Regret floods through her as she cries silently. She bites on her hand to muffle the sobs bubbling in her throat. 

_ “Oh won't you come with me _

_ Where the moon is made of gold _

_ And in the morning sun _

_ We'll be sailing.-” _

Fifteen-year-old Tobias rushes down the stairs at the sound of the door knocking. He sits on the steps, eagerly awaiting the news. His Mother is at the door, talking to the man outside. Tobias tilts his head, trying to hear the conversation. His Mom stands eerily still, nodding her head before shutting the door gently. She turns around, a blank expression on her face. Her stomach is a noticeable bump due to pregnancy. Her eyes seem to be glazed over. She notices Tobias looking at her expectantly but remains silent. 

“Is...Is Dad ok?” Tobias asks, concerned. His Mother doesn’t respond, answering his question for him. He feels the familiar prick of tears threatening the corners of his eyes. Hot tears stream down Tobias’ face as he shakes his head. His Mom rushes over to him, wrapping her arms around him. They share each other’s grief for what feels like hours. 

_ “Oh won't you come with me _

_ Where the ocean meets the sky _

_ And as the clouds roll by _

_ We'll sing the song of the sea.-”_

Tobias waits outside of his Mother’s room along with Mr. And Mrs. Capaldi. He can hear his mother’s screams along with the doctor’s rushed footsteps. Tobias’ knees shake as he sits on the bench. He clenches his sweaty fists as he looks at her door. Mr. Capaldi lays a comforting hand on his shoulder as they wait. Suddenly, the doctor comes out, wearing a disheartened expression. 

“She’s born, but I’m afraid your mother doesn’t have much time.” He sighs, adjusting his coat. Tobias’ heart sinks into his stomach as he gets up, feeling completely numb. “She wants to see you.” The doctor states, beckoning for the boy to follow. Tobias follows him into the room shakily to see his Mother in bed. Her face is pale, and her breathing is ragged. Nevertheless, she smiles in greeting, holding a small bundled-up form in her arms. 

“Come see, Tobias.” His Mom rasps as Tobias nervously walks over. He looks down to see the rosy cheeked face of his new baby sister. “Isn’t she beautiful?” She sighs, eyelids fluttering. “I named her Nancy. After your grandmother.” The young boy looks at his mother fearfully as her breathing slows slightly. Before he can get the chance to respond, a doctor’s hand shoves Tobias out of the way. 

“We need to move quickly! Get the boy out of here, we’re losing her!” He shouts as Tobias is tugged backwards. He gives a strangled cry, clawing to get back to his Mom. 

“She’s lost too much blood, sir!” One of the nurses shouts back. Tobias cries as he’s dragged out of his Mother’s room. 

“Momma!” He chokes a sob as the doctors instruct the Capaldi’s to keep a tight hold on him. “_Please!_ She’s all I have!” He begs, tears streaming down his face as he takes a glimpse of his Mother’s face. She smiles, blinking her two-colored eyes back at him. “_No!”_ He cries as Mr. Capaldi holds him gently. He collapses instantly in the older man’s arms. Voices fill Tobias’ ears of past conversations and memories. 

_ “I had a dream last night _

_ And heard the sweetest sound _

_ I saw a great white light _

_ And dancers in the round-” _

“Don’t leave me!” He kicks and shouts weakly, but Mr. Capaldi keeps a tight hold of him. His whimpers and cries mingle with the sound of rushed footsteps. 

_ “Castles in the sand _

_ Cradles in the trees _

_ Don't cry, I'll see you by and by.-” _


	11. Big Shot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is Tobias Fletcher's first day as an...agent? Things seem to go well for now, but will it stay that way?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the edited other half of the previous chapter.  
DISCLAIMER: The title is a song by Billy Joel. Check it out for sure.
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4toIcm2VpKUJXFVclHsNgg?si=XmMH5lgTTYKphOFkHdkXKg

Tobias wakes up from his dream in a cold sweat. His mother’s soothing lullaby completely gone. He looks at the clock, letting out a curse under his breath. 

_“5:30am!_” Tobias gasps, rushing out of bed quickly. He nearly trips over his stack of books by his bed as he scrambles to find some clothes. Tobias’ nice clothes are all dirty, much to his chagrin. He was always taught to make good first impressions, so he looks for something _decent_ at least. He looks through the drawers, finding nothing but Marco Capaldi’s old clothes. The Italian playboy’s style is _hardly_ business casual. A really bad idea comes to mind when Tobias is unable to find anything. 

He unlatches the trapdoor and climbs down the ladder silently. At the foot of the ladder lays Athena, who now stares up at him expectantly. Tobias quickly places a finger to his lips, causing the muscular dog to tilt her head silently. 

“Shhh... I’ll feed you in a moment.” He promises, causing Athena to loll her tongue happily. He continues on with his task, tiptoeing silently down the hallway. Tobias stops at one of the doors and quietly twists the knob. Thankfully, Lucardo is nowhere to be found, causing a sigh of relief from Tobias. He must’ve left early this morning to do... whatever it is Lucardo does on a Sunday. Tobias ruffles through his drawers for more proper clothes. Finally, he lands on a simple black button-down that Lucardo wears to church to _‘catch ladies’_. Today, it will be an excellent addition to Tobias’ attire. 

_ ~~Thirty Minutes Later~~ _

Tobias gulps as he stares up at the skyscraper before him. Multiple thoughts and regrets run through his head as he stands there. Tobias finds himself doubting his decision to enlist but pushes the thought away. He takes a few deep breaths before walking in. 

Tobias is surprised to be greeted by a very exhausted Ms. Charlotte. Despite last night’s injury, she carries a toughness about her. She appears unfazed by it all, unlike Tobias last night. Still, her eyes have dark circles underneath to display her exhaustion. 

“Ah, Mr. Fletcher.” Ms. Charlotte greets with a smile, inclining her head. Tobias returns it with a nervous one, as he makes his way beside her. “Are you nervous, love?” She asks, eyebrow raised. 

“I’m not quite sure what to do, exactly.” He admits honestly. She gives him a knowing look in response as they walk ahead. 

“I remember when I was young like you.” Ms. Charlotte sighs, as they step into an elevator. Tobias looks at her curiously before she continues. “Wide-eyed and nervous! I was the same. A young girl from Manchester coming to America, y’know? My family said I was crazy!” She converses easily as Tobias nods along. 

“Definitely feelin’ wide-eyed and nervous now...” He trails off before changing the subject quickly. “So England! What’s that like?” Tobias asks curiously. Ms. Charlotte smiles in response. 

“Cold winters for sure. People are friendlier in person, but not so much on the road. I like New York, though. Busy, like me.” She laughs. “But I’m not a fan of your accent.” She admits honestly. Tobias gasps in surprise. 

“_What?_ Really?” Ms. Charlotte snorts and nods in response before stepping out of the elevator with him. 

“Yes, I remember the first time I met Mr. Stanford. I was instantly disgusted by his voice.” She chuckles. “The way you say tomatoes is odd as well.” Tobias tilts his head. 

“What’s a tom-_ah_-toe?” Ms. Charlotte doesn’t answer. Instead, she bites her lip, stifling another laugh. She makes a right, walking in a fast pace for someone who had been injured recently. Tobias finds himself struggling to keep up with her as she opens the door to a massive...gym.

A disheartened groan escapes Tobias as he looks around the large space. He was never really good at PE back in high school. His old coach, Mr. Watkins, always yelled at him for being a _‘noodle-armed and malnourished pipsqueak’._ Tobias would rather have died before signing up for sports growing up. He is usually the type to come up with an excuse as to why he is unfit for the task. Now, Tobias gulps as he takes it all in. His past high-school dreads resurface. 

Several clusters of young men and women are seen exercising in the gym. Some take laps around the room. Others get an earful of instructive criticism from their trainers. Several black punching bags hang from the ceiling on the right side of the room. Strict men and women stand by, instructing their trainees on their next task. Shouts of encouragement and slander fill the room. The sight terrifies Tobias. As if things couldn’t get worse, Tobias spots a familiar face in the background. He gulps as she stares right at him. 

“Fletcher!” Ms. Aliana Lewis growls, causing all of the bright-eyed trainees to snicker. Tobias practically shrinks in her presence and turns to Ms. Charlotte for aid. Or at least he_ tries_ to, considering the Brit is now gone. Man, she’s fast. Tobias lets out a slight yelp as the small yet mighty Aliana stomps over to him. Despite her short stature, her presence is downright_ terrifying_. He gulps as he stares down at her. She wears a simple black tank top now, and olive green cargo pants. Her skin glows from sweat due to strenuous exercising. Aliana also wears an expression of great annoyance to complete the look. 

“Good morning, Ms. Lewis.” Tobias squeaks out, but she remains in her spot. She points at the clock, never taking her eyes off him. 

“What time does that clock say, Fletcher?” Aliana asks steadily, folding her arms. Tobias turns his head nervously and looks at it. 

“5:58am, Ms. Lewis.” He replies shakily, tugging his collar. She nods her head, as if he had just committed the worst of crimes. 

“First off: It’s '_Commander_ ' Lewis.” She scowls up at him while the trainees giggle and whisper amongst themselves. Aliana turns to face them, silencing their muttering with a death glare. “Second: You are _late!_” She states. 

“But Commander, it starts at 6:00am-” But she cuts him off. 

“_I_ make the rules around here, slick!” She rears on him, nostrils flaring. “You show up here 10 minutes early, y’hear me?” Aliana asks him, eyes narrowing. Tobias lets out a shaky breath, nodding. 

“Y-Yes, ma’am.” He stutters, causing her eyes to flare again. 

“Yes, _commander!_” She growls, causing him to flinch. 

“Yes, Commander!” Tobias salutes, causing her to roll her eyes. She beckons for him to follow along with the other trainees. Next to Tobias, he hears a low chuckle. A young man with messy blonde hair and forest green eyes smirks at him. A constellation of freckles covers his nose and cheeks. He walks up beside Tobias, standing slightly taller than him. 

“Best not to get on ‘er bad side, ey lad?” The boy informs him with a thick Scottish accent. Tobias gives a sheepish smile in response. 

“Maybe one day I can get her to like me!” He states hopefully, causing the other to snort. 

“Nah. Many ‘ave tried. All ‘ave failed. She’s a pretty hen, that one.” The Scottish boy nods to the abrasive commander before sighing. “But she’ll flip any man tha’ looks at ‘er funny. It can be quite amusin’ when a newbie comes along and fancies ‘er.” He turns to Tobias, holding out his hand. “Remmie Baldwin, by tha way.” The shorter boy shakes it with a grin. 

“I’m Tobias Fletcher! Your accent is funny.” He giggles, causing a groan from Remmie as they line-up against the wall. 

“Tell me abou’ it...” He rolls his eyes. “You New Yorkers’ sound downright _ghastly_ if ya ask me.” But Remmie hushes himself as Aliana walks past them, shooting glares at Tobias specifically. After she is far enough out of earshot, Remmie leans up to whisper to him. 

“Man, she _really_ hates yer guts.” He snickers as Tobias’ face reddens several shades. Aliana stands in front of all the trainees, arms behind her back. 

“Alright, we have some more ‘fresh meat’ in the bunch today.” She looks at each of them with narrowed eyes. “I’m not here to tell you how good you’re doing. I’m here to make you the best that you can be.” Aliana paces back and forth, intimidatingly. “_If_ your best isn’t good enough, you won’t last long here.” A shudder goes up Tobias’ spine at her words. He begins to regret ever agreeing to this. Suddenly, a hand raises from the line-up. 

“Commander Lewis, I think this whole meeting would go a lot better if you gave us some more _personal training~_” A snarky looking tall boy states suggestively. His friends around him snicker at his joke while Aliana stares back, unfazed. Tobias’ eyes widen, realizing that this boy is, indeed, dead. He can almost envision Remmie’s smile beside him. 

“Young man, what’s your name.” Aliana grins toothily while sashaying towards him. The tall boy who made the comment coughs in his fist, looking to his friends for support. 

“William Murphy. And you, princess?” William asks coolly, hands on hips, as he looks down on her. Remmie chuckles darkly. 

“Tha’ boy is dead fer sure.” He looks to Tobias, smirking impishly. Tobias turns his head back to watch this horror show play out. Aliana places a gentle hand on William’s shoulder, causing him to flinch at the contact. 

“What do you say you and I... spar?” She flutters her eyelashes prettily. William’s friends whistle and laugh around him as he himself seems taken aback. 

“Don’t chicken out on a girl now, Murphy!” One of his friends, a short bald boy, jabs. Aliana’s eyes hold a fearful intensity as her smile seems to grow. 

“Yea, don’t chicken out on me, _Murphy._” She taunts. William stands taller, puffing his chest out confidently. Tobias isn’t quite sure what to expect, but he knows it can’t be good. 

“Alrighty, doll-face. I’ll teach ya how the men do it.” He strides forward so they can have enough space. Aliana does the same, standing a foot across from him. 

“Careful.” She warns him with a wink. “Don’t wanna disappoint half of the human race.” William laughs mockingly in response, clenching his hands into fists. 

“I’ll make sure to go easy on ya princ-” But he doesn’t get the chance to finish. Aliana lunges forward and lands on her knees. She grabs his sleeve from underneath with one hand, and his collar with the other. She drags him towards her. She then steps back with her left foot before advancing forward, kicking into his hip with her right. Aliana then proceeds to flip him over completely, and wraps her legs around his neck in a choke-hold.. Tobias’ mouth gapes as he watches the whole thing transpire. The way she wraps herself around his upper body like a snake is mind-blowing. William exhales in surprise, unsure of what’s going on as the wind is knocked out of him. As he struggles to get up, her hold on him seems to get tighter. A strangled shriek escapes the young man. 

“Ok! I give up, I give up! You win!” William shrieks, tapping the ground next to him. Aliana tightens her hold one last time for good measure before releasing him. She gets up easily, watching as the tall boy scampers away. A satisfied smile is on her face as she looks along the line of nervous trainees. William’s friends all stare at the floor, avoiding her gaze. 

“Anyone else have something funny to say?” She asks steadily. Tobias has never felt so afraid, yet curious at the same time. Aliana snaps her fingers to get their attention. “Next time somebody thinks they can call me anything other than _‘commander’_ will join Mr. Murphy on the floor.” She spits, causing all the young men to flinch. 

“Told ya.” Remmie states, voice shaking slightly. But Tobias finds himself more amazed rather than frightened. Ok, maybe a _little_ frightened, but more amazed. Before he can think about it longer, the intimidating commander speaks again. 

“I want 50 push-ups out of you all just because of Murphy’s little show.” A collective groan erupts from the trainees, but Aliana’s cold gaze causes them to hush. All of them shoot dirty looks at William when they pass by. Now, they are all on the floor, struggling to even get through 10 push-ups. 

Tobias feels his shoulders screaming from the task. Due to his obvious lack of muscles, the idea of 50 push-ups feels practically _impossible_ to him. His heart beats fast and his whole body seems to beg for him to stop. Suddenly, he hears footsteps walking toward him, causing him to feel self-conscious. Aliana looms above him, face scrunched up in disgust. 

“Fletcher, your form is_ terrible!”_ She states bluntly as Tobias sits up on his butt, looking at his hands sheepishly. Her expression loosens up a tad before getting on her stomach beside him. He looks at her questioningly when she sits beside him. She looks back at him before rolling her eyes. “Copy me, knucklehead.” Aliana snaps as Tobias hastily mirrors her movements. She has her forearms on the ground rather than her hands to make it easier on him. He takes the moment to realize how muscular she actually _is_ for her size. Aliana’s arms are incredibly cut, unlike his own noodle ones. He feels a tad self-conscious about himself due to this fact. 

“When you go down, _don’t_ let your stomach touch the ground. And keep your back straight.” She orders. Tobias does his best, trying to not look like a total wimp. Together, they begin the 50 push-ups, and she shouts words of encouragement at him while he does so. As Tobias gets to the last few, his breathing becomes more strained. He finds himself struggling to even finish, while Aliana completes it with absolute ease. She sits up, not even sweating. 

“How are you literally _perfect_ at this?” Tobias asks, in awe. Aliana looks taken aback by the question, but she answers anyways. 

“Lots of training.” She shrugs nonchalantly. “And not wearing a Sunday shirt.” She points out, causing Tobias’ face to redden. He looks down at the black shirt, embarrassed. A small hint of a teasing smile tugs at Aliana’s lips, but disappears quickly. She gets up, offering a hand to him, which he takes. As the commander walks away to discuss their other training exercises, Remmie walks up to him, shocked. 

“She didn’ kill ya on tha spot!” He gapes, causing Tobias to look up at him, confused. 

“We’ve met before.” He informs, tilting his head. “And why would she kill me?” The Scott shakes his head. 

“She doesn’ like..._people_.” Remmie grumbles as he stretches, preparing himself for more training. At that, the receptionist makes brief eye contact with the commander. Aliana raises her brow at him curiously when Tobias tears his gaze away. A shudder runs up his spine, receiving a questioning look from Remmie. Tobias shakes his head, giving him a reassuring smile. They continue with their training. 

_~~Break Time~~_

Tobias groans as he rubs his sore shoulders. A very sweaty Remmie does the same beside him. His blonde hair sticks to his freckled face as he gives an exhausted sigh. 

“Tha’... was the worst.” Remmie gasps before drinking all of his bottled water. Tobias nods his head in agreement. 

“I’m not used to...” He trails off. 

“Extensive training?” 

“Exercise.” Tobias and Remmie exchange a look with each other before cackling. Once their boyish laughter turns into soft chuckles, Remmie gives him a serious look. 

“Bu’ seriously, how did ya ever decide on _this_ career path n’yways?” He asks. Tobias ponders for a moment before giving him a sly smirk. 

“I could ask the same about you?” He points out mischievously, arms crossed. The other boy snorts in response, nodding his head. 

“Indeed, yes. If ya wanna know, I jus’ wanna be rid of my sister Angela to be hones’. And the _whole_ lot of ‘em.” Remmie grumbles, causing Tobias to snicker in response. 

“So, let me get this straight.” He places his hand on his chin. “You joined a potentially life-threatening agency _just_ to avoid your sister?!” Tobias doubles over laughing while holding his stomach. Remmie’s face reddens in response and he rolls his eyes, discomfited. 

“S-So?” He sputters, wiping his face off with a towel. “Why did _you_ join? Ya got noodle arms, lad. No offense.” Tobias still finds feels very offended, but answers his question anyways. 

“Sheer curiosity? Stupidity? I’m not sure yet.” He shrugs as Remmie gapes at him. 

“So yer jus’ bored, then?” He asks, stretching his legs as the other ponders. Tobias gives a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his neck. Suddenly, William Murphy strides over with his posse, eyes narrowed. Remmie’s face contorts in disgust as he nudges Tobias’ ribs with his elbow. 

“Hello boys.” William inclines his head, almost condescendingly. Tobias gives a little wave, grinning in a friendly manner. 

“Hello! I’m Tobias Fletcher-” But William and his friends interrupt him with a mocking laugh. The leader pretends to wipe a tear as he gazes down at Tobias snootily. 

“Don’t care, sunshine.” He sneers, causing Tobias’ smile to falter. “What I do care about is that I couldn’t help but notice Ms. Commander Doll-Face giving you _special treatment.”_ His smile twitches as he says it. Tobias tilts his head innocently, not quite following. Remmie steps in, pushing his way to the front. 

“So what?!” The fiery freckled boy snaps back, face red. Tobias looks at his new friend in surprise. “Jus’ because the commander doesn’ fancy trash, doesn’ mean you get to pick on my friend.” It is William’s turn for his face to redden as he clenches his fist. He yanks Remmie’s shirt towards him. 

“Why you little-” But William never finishes because Aliana walks in. Her body language appears slightly tense and her eyes are steely. She crosses her arms as the dark-haired boy releases Remmie from his grasp. “Commander Lewis! What a surp-” 

“Fletcher.” Aliana cuts William off. Tobias peers over Remmie’s shoulder, confused. He shifts his feet awkwardly 

“Y-Yes Commander?” He fiddles with his sleeve, meeting her gaze hesitantly. Aliana’s lips form a tight line before she speaks again. 

“Maxime needs to speak with you. Follow me.” She doesn’t wait for him to respond as she walks out of the training room. Tobias gives a fearful glance to Remmie before following Aliana. 

_ ~~An hour before~~ _

Arthur Diaz drums his fingers on his co-worker’s desk, sitting patiently as she rambles on. One of her ‘bodyguards’ stands off to the side, arms crossed. 

“How did they see this coming?” Aiko Kamizaki growls as she paces back and forth. She clenches her fists, causing the whites of her knuckles to show. Arthur gives her a bored expression as he sits crossed-legged in the chair. Aiko scowls at him with her hands on her hips. She stares down at him. “Why did.._.’he’_ send you, anyways?” She narrows her eyes at the unflinching assassin. He sits up straight and points to himself, then places his right fist on the palm of his left hand. His right hand is in a ‘thumbs-up’ position, and he drags both hands in the direction of Aiko. _‘I-HELP-YOU' _The woman lets out a frustrated gasp. 

“You haven’t been much help!” She counters, but Arthur just blinks in response. He splays his fingers out and brings his thumb to his forehead. _‘MAN.’_ Aiko narrows her eyes, not understanding. 

“What about a man?” She asks before widening her eyes in understanding. “Someone’s responsible for last night?” Arthur nods vigorously in response. Aiko bites her thumb. “But who?” She demands. Arthur points to his left eye before bringing his flat hand towards the side of his mouth. He strokes it _‘BROWN’_. Arthur then points to his right eye before making a ‘B’ shape with his hands. He twists it, signing _‘BLUE’_. A gasp of understanding escapes Aiko. 

“Thankfully that narrows it down. We need to revisit the list of _new_ recruits.” A smile stretches across her face. “Look for a man with mismatched eyes. Kill him.” Arthur nods, getting up from his chair and exiting the room. Aiko’s bodyguard walks over after he’s gone. 

“May I take a break, Kamizaki-san?” The man asks politely, receiving a hasty nod from Aiko. He exits the building, waiting to be out of earshot. He walks to the side of the building and leans against the wall. The sun is already starting to set now. The bodyguard frantically grabs a walkie-talkie out of his bag. 

“I pray that you received this, Maxime?” He mutters softly into it after clicking the button. The walkie-talkie crackles to life. 

“Sure did. Nice work, Agent Hill. We have to figure something out for the kid...” A staticky sigh follows his reply through the small device. Agent Hill looks around again to be safe before talking again. 

“How long do I keep my post, sir?” He asks frantically. A pause. 

“We know who we’re after and we know who _they_ want for now. I think giving it another two days before heading back safely is a good idea, Agent.” Maxime replies finally. Agent Hill feels wary about the decision, but consents. 

“Alright sir, I’ll be back in a-” _Bang!_ The sound hits his ears as he instinctively places a hand on his stomach. His ears ring and his hands are covered in blood, his blood. But it doesn’t hurt like he expected it to. Suddenly, blood rises in his throat and he coughs it up. He looks up to see the face of Aiko Kamizaki. Her gun is still raised from the action, and she slowly drops it by her side. Arthur Diaz leans up on the building, opposite of Agent Hill. He appears unfazed, bored even. Meanwhile, Maxime’s concerned voice shouts through the walkie-talkie. 

“Oh dear. I think I killed him.” Aiko tilts her head before striding forward to the agent. She uses the heel of her shoes to smash the walkie-talkie on her way over. She then proceeds to wrap her arms around the agent as he chokes on his own blood. “Shhhh...it is alright,_ watashi no yūjin._” Aiko whispers soothingly as Agent Hill’s eyes roll back into his own head. “I didn’t want to do this. I _had_ to, you see.” She admits honestly before shoving the limp body on the concrete with a thump. The woman looks to Arthur, who is currently lighting a cigarette. 

“Please find someone to clean this up.” She sighs, rubbing the bridge of her nose. Arthur puffs out a cloud of smoke before walking back inside the building. Aiko stares at the lifeless corpse, watching as the blood spills out of his stomach. The glazed eyes of Agent Hill stare up at her. She smiles solemnly. “Don’t look at me like that, _Kyūyū_.” Aiko sighs. “They say _‘death always comes too early or too late’_ but I think your sacrifice was necessary today.” She walks away, feeling the weight of her actions. 

_‘Soon.’_ Aiko reassures herself. _‘They will understand. They will see.’_


	12. Personal Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tobias is nervous to hear the news that await him in Mr. Stanford's office. Did they decide they didn't need him? Is it about his training? Or perhaps about a future mission? Whatever it is, it has him rattled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took longer to finish editing! It IS Christmas season after all. Hope you enjoy! Next chapter will be exploring different POVs! Give Kudos! It gives me life...
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4toIcm2VpKUJXFVclHsNgg?si=h5tTwGKGR0qmRPDx9U3iBQ

While moments pass by in Maxime's office, Tobias's stomach drops. 

While waiting for him, Tobias starts to break out in a cold sweat. He wonders whether he did something wrong. Or whether they changed their mind about training him. All of these thoughts brought unease to him. Eager to distract himself, Tobias spins gently in the leather chair. It starts as a thoughtless movement before breeding into something more. The motion brings him some amusement, so he decides to spin faster. Tobias giggles as the chair squeaks under his weight. While spinning, his eyes begin to lose focus. Dizziness and nausea mingle with his excitement. After one final spin, the chair falls forward. Tobias topples over with a loud thud right as the door opens. He looks up nervously, meeting the gaze of a very annoyed Maxime. Standing by his side is Aliana Lewis with her hands on her hips. She mirrors Maxime's expression of displeasure. 

“What are you doing, Fletcher?” Maxime sighs, shaking his head. Stress is evident in his tone. Tobias gives him a sheepish grin, getting up off the floor. He brushes himself off before picking the seat back up. 

“Sorry, Mr. Stanford.” Tobias apologizes, rubbing his arm. He looks back up at the man curiously. “What did you need me for, sir?” He asks. Aliana strides forward, crossing her arms. 

“You’ve become pretty _popular_, Fletcher.” She states bluntly, quirking a brow. Tobias tilts his head, confused. He looks to Maxime for clarity, but the man’s expression is unreadable now. 

“What does that mean?” Tobias asks him innocently. Maxime stares at the floor before speaking. 

“You’ve got a target on your back, Agent Fletcher.”

_ ‘Agent?’_ Tobias perks up at the title before realizing the information Maxime just delivered. A shiver travels up his spine. 

“Why would someone want to kill me?” He asks incredulously. Aliana rolls her eyes. 

“Criminals don’t have rhyme or reason, kid.” She deadpans. Tobias looks to Maxime, praying it is just some sick joke. Maxime just stares off, a heaviness in his eyes. 

“You ruined their plans Saturday night.” He states. 

“But- but I don’t understand!” Tobias’s eyes furrow as he clutches his hair. Aliana gives him a pitying look. 

“A brave agent died for _your_ sake.” She states impatiently. “We don’t have time for you to-” Maxime cuts her off when he notices Tobias’s eyes water. 

“That’s enough, Commander.” He warns the short woman. She just grumbles in response, taking a step back. Maxime looks back to Tobias. “Listen, kid.” He sighs. “You haven’t had much training, but I’m afraid you’re about to be thrown into this.” Maxime places a firm hand on his shoulder. Tobias looks up at him fearfully. 

“But... I’m not ready!” Tobias sputters. “I-I don’t have enough training; I am not strong enough.” He rambles, hugging his arms. Aliana tugs on Maxime’s sleeve, looking at him seriously. She glances to Tobias while she talks. 

“Sir, he’s not ready for this.” She mutters to him frantically. “He can barely do a push-up!” Tobias stares at his shoes, hurt. Maxime looks at the receptionist sympathetically. What comes from the man next surprises both Tobias_ and_ Aliana. 

“You can train him personally.” He states finally. A flurry of wild emotions cross Aliana’s features. All of them negative. 

“Sir, if I may-” He cuts her off. 

“You may not.” Aliana clenches her fists furiously before taking a deep breath. Tobias looks back and forth between them. Maxime places a comforting hand on the short Commander’s shoulder. “Listen, you have to train him to be the best. _Better _than the best.” He states steadily. “I trust you, Agent, Lewis. These aren’t the best of times, but I’m sure you will do fine. The kid needs us.” Aliana crosses her arms angrily before shooting Tobias a dirty look. 

“Alright, Fletcher. Looks like you’ll be training with me more.” She says the words through gritted teeth. Tobias gulps, giving Maxime a pleading look. He’s not so sure he wants personal training with someone who looks like she eats people like _him_ for breakfast. Maxime claps his hands together. 

“Alright! I trust that you will fulfill your duties exceptionally, Agent Fletcher.” He nods to Tobias with a strained smile. “You will be reprieved for now of your receptionist duties due to dangerous conditions. Do _not_ speak of this to anyone.” Tobias opens his mouth to say something, but Maxime gives him a silencing look. Aliana narrows her eyes at Tobias before walking out of the office with a huff. 

_ ~~Lunch Time~~ _

Tobias grabs a tray and stands in the line beside his friend, Remmie. The talkative Scot rambles on animatedly about his desire to punch William Murphy in the face while Tobias pretends to listen. 

“Ya should ‘ave seen his face when I called ‘im a-” Tobias nods along, staring at his slice of meatloaf. After a while, Remmie catches on to Tobias’s lack of concentration. “Are ya even listenin’, Fletch? Ya alright?” Remmie asks, concerned. He places a comforting hand on Tobias’s shoulder, bringing him back into focus. 

“Hm? Oh! Yes! I’m absolutely perfect!” He forces a grin onto his face before moving down the line. Remmie gives him an unconvinced look but carries on casually. 

“Anyways, I would _love_ to jus’ give tha’ boy a taste of his own medicine.” He mutters darkly, walking towards one of the roundtables. Tobias looks at him curiously. 

“Yea he’s annoying, but _hardly_ intimidating.” Tobias points out, causing Remmie to snicker.

The two boys look around for a table, finding that most are already filled. Some have free spots, but the men sitting at it look like they’d choke you for trying. Finally, they spot a table where its occupants _aren't _giving death glares. Two other trainees occupy a roundtable towards the back. One of the faces Tobias instantly recognizes, and he finds himself grinning ear-to-ear. He rushes over to the table, leaving a cursing Remmie to trail behind. 

“James!” Tobias shouts joyfully. A young man with dark curly hair turns to look at Tobias. An unsure smile stretches across his features. He gives a little awkward wave. 

“Hey Tobias!” James greets, inclining his head. Remmie comes up behind Tobias, panting. 

“Don’t...ever leave me like tha’ again, _idiot!”_ He gasps for breath, clutching his food tray. Tobias ignores him. 

“I didn’t know you were an _agent!?”_ Tobias’s mouth gapes. James chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his head. 

“There’s a_ lot_ you don’t know, Tobias.” He states pointedly. Tobias looks at the floor, nodding solemnly. 

“I am afraid you’re right.” He admits, disheartened. He waves it aside, smile returning. “Can we sit here?” Tobias asks politely. James shrugs. 

“Free country. I don’t know about him, though.” He nods in the direction of the other person sitting at the table. A young man with bright red hair sits off on the other side of the table. He has dark brown eyes along with pointed features. His high-cheek bones and sharp jaw give him a regal appearance. One might confuse him for some sort of _‘elf-spirit’_ if he didn't always wear such a grumpy expression. He picks at his meatloaf absentmindedly, not bothering to look up. Tobias strides over with a friendly grin. Remmie walks behind, unsure. 

“Hello! I’m Tobias Fletcher!” He holds out his hand to the redhead. The young man raises a his brow at him before scrunching his face up. Remmie nudges Tobias. 

“Let’s jus’ sit down, Fletch.” He mutters in his ear. Tobias nudges Remmie back. 

“I’ll get you to like me!” Tobias states determinedly, hands on his hips. The red-haired boy looks back up, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly. 

“Don’t you have something better to do?” He asks testily with a thick accent. The way he pronounces his words sound _almost_ Russian, but not quite. Remmie turns his nose up in disgust. 

“Let’s jus’ go. We’re waistin’ our time.” He grumbles, yanking on Tobias’s sleeve. Luckily for him, Tobias doesn’t give up_ that_ easily. He plops down in the seat, causing James and Remmie to look at him strangely. 

“Where are you from?” Tobias converses easily, picking at his meatloaf. The redhead looks taken aback from the question. Despite his previous attitude, he answers honestly. 

“Zakopane, Poland.” He states, staring at his food absentmindedly. “Grew up there.” Tobias grins at that. 

“I’ve never been to Poland! Is it nice?” He asks. The other boy smiles fondly with a faraway gaze. It disappears quickly behind his cold persona. 

“It’s cold. People are friendly, though.” He states simply. Tobias nods excitedly, eager to hear more. The redhead shakes his head at Tobias’s enthusiasm before holding out his hand. “I’m Julian by the way. Julian Dabrowski.” Tobias shakes it eagerly before nodding his head to his other friends. 

“That’s Remmie, the hotheaded one.” He points to the freckled blonde. “And that’s James. He’s super nice!” He points to the boy with the dark, sepia skin and curly hair. James waves politely while Remmie grumbles at the comment. Julian waves back, a little halfheartedly. 

“Hullo. Sorry I ignored you.” He inclines his head apologetically. James waves it off with a smile, but Remmie doesn’t look so convinced. Tobias figures he’ll have to deal with the fiery Scottish boy another time. 

“So, what made you decide to come to America?” Tobias asks the Polish boy curiously. Julian stares off for a moment, eyes glistening slightly. His gaze is far off. The stream of emotions that pass through them dissipate quickly, though. 

“I wanted a new start I guess.” He shrugs. “Make some money, live the_ ‘American Dream’_.” Remmie tilts his head at that. 

“Why work ‘ere, then?” He asks. “Not exactly what I’d call rich in pay.” 

“I guess what I _meant_ to say is that I wanted the _‘American Dream’_, but it is harder to achieve than I thought.” Julian sighs. “Now, all I want is to get home to my family. That’s why I’m trying to save up some money.” He admits somberly. Tobias's gaze softens. 

“You’ll see ‘em soon, I’m sure!” He states hopefully, patting his shoulder. Julian gives a strained smile, but the smile doesn't meet his eyes.

“So why did you come here, Tobias?” James pipes up, cocking his head. Tobias rubs the back of his neck, laughing nervously. 

“I-It’s a_ long_ story...” He trails off, rubbing his arm.

Remmie looks over at him, intrigued as well. Tobias isn’t quite sure he’s ready to unpack all of it today, though. Everything had happened so fast it almost feels unreal. Suddenly, a very disgruntled Aliana walks into the cafeteria. Several heads turn, while some trainees mutter amongst themselves. Some would go so far as to salute when she passes by them. Her eyes are fixated on Tobias angrily. Remmie shakes his head. 

“Did ya do somethin’ to ruffle ‘er? Cause she looks like she wants to rip ya apart.” Remmie muses. Tobias sinks slowly in his chair, internally dying inside. Julian shares a confused look with James. 

“What did you do, Tobias?” James asks, concerned. Tobias looks up with a conflicted gaze. 

“N-No I swear! It wasn’t me! I didn’t...I mean I guess I kind of... I may or may not have done something...” He rambles, causing each of his friends to exchange a confused look. A moment later, Aliana walks over to the table, staring down at the curled-up Tobias. 

“You.” She states steadily. The three other boys look up at her confusedly before looking back at Tobias. The receptionist looks up at her innocently while she looms over him. Her hair frames the sides of his face and she wears an annoyed expression. Her jaw is clenched, and he can almost see a vein popping in her neck. Tobias gives a sheepish smile when she crosses her arms. “Follow me. Our training session begins _now._” Aliana states through gritted teeth, turning around and walking away. Tobias blinks after her, before rushing to get up. Meanwhile, his friends’ mouths all hang open, shocked. As Tobias passes by William Murphy’s table, he can almost_ feel_ the scowl. 

“Uhm... where are we going exactly?” Tobias asks, looking around at all the death glares being thrown his way. Aliana turns to look over her shoulder impatiently. 

“To train, of course.” She states simply, walking ahead. He still feels clueless, but carries on anyways. They make their way into a smaller exercise room. Aliana pulls her hair up into a short ponytail. She grabs her foot and brings it back to stretch her legs. Tobias is unsure what to say or do. He decides on standing there awkwardly. After stretching, she stands at the opposite end of the black floor mat.

“Alright. We’re going to train. Harder than you’ve ever trained in your life.” She cracks her knuckles, receiving a nervous gulp from Tobias. 

“A-Actually, I don’t think-” 

“Silence, _worm!”_ She hisses, holding her fists up in a fighting position. Tobias’s eyes widen in fear and he takes several steps back. 

“I-I’m not fighting you!” He lets out a nervous laugh. Aliana’s scowl deepens. 

“Why? Think I’m not good enough?” She counters, advancing forward slowly. Tobias holds up his hands defensively. 

“No, no, no! I’m _scared_ of you!” He shrieks as she lunges at him. The scene probably would have made Tobias laugh if he wasn’t terrified. He imagines a short and angry woman chasing a tall scared boy around the room. Right now, this is his nightmare. 

“Hold _still!”_ She growls, finally catching up to him. It doesn’t take much for her to sweep her foot in order to trip him. He falls backwards with a _thump._

_ “Oof!”_ He squeaks before hastily turning around to see Aliana. She stares down at him condescendingly. 

“Really, Fletcher?” She sneers. “You’re gonna let_ me_ beat you that easily?”

Tobias feels his face burn shamefully as he looks at the floor. He doesn’t mind being beaten by a girl, but to be beaten so easily by _anyone_ is embarrassing. Aliana him a hand, which he takes. She stares up at him, arms crossed. 

“I... I can’t fight.” Tobias sighs defeatedly, bowing his head. He hears a scoff from the woman. 

“Why do you think I’m here?” She asks with a sigh before walking back to her previous position. She brings her fists back up. “Mirror my movements.” She instructs. Tobias hesitantly does as he’s told, raising his fists up by his neck area. Aliana walks over to him and places a hand on his back. A shiver runs up his spine, but he ignores the sensation. “We aren’t going to spar today. You will learn how to punch first.” She states. Tobias nods his head, a tad surprised. 

“I’m afraid I’ll disappoint you there...” He admits sheepishly. Aliana rolls her eyes. 

“That’s what training’s for.” She states. “Relax your position. Place your advancing leg behind.” Aliana stands beside Tobias, instructing him by doing the same. “You’re going to breathe out with each punch. Your breathing is 50% of the fight. Don’t want you passing out before you go in for the knockout.” She informs. He nods again, relaxing his position and tightening his fist.

“And how do I give a knockout punch?” Tobias asks, still in position. Aliana throws a punch to the air and alternates between the two. 

“The trick is understanding _how_ to punch before learning how to knock a fella out.” She informs. “Keep your fist tight and straight. Don’t bend your wrist and keep your thumb on_ top._ I don’t want to be even more disappointed to find out that you keep your thumb underneath your fingers.” Tobias quickly brings his thumb over the top of them before she notices. 

Aliana walks in front of him, holding both hands out in front of her. 

“You’re going to punch at my hands. I’ll instruct you further.” Aliana inclines her head. Tobias nods, punching forward into her hand. Much to his disappointment, her hand hardly moves. He goes to punch again, but still, her arm remains rigid. “Keep that wrist straight!” She exclaims. “We’ll work on strength when you exercise with the others. For now, we’ll stick to getting the form right.” 

“What’s the point of form if I can’t get them on the ground?” Tobias whines receiving a glare from Aliana. 

“If you injure yourself just as much as the guy you’re beating up, then what’s the point?” Aliana shoots back. “Again!” She barks. Tobias punches with his right fist, elated to find that her arm moves ever so slightly. He grins down at her seeing her lips tug at the corners ever so slightly. “Not _completely_ pathetic. Now you’re just mildly pathetic.” After the teasing, Aliana returns to her serious stature. They continue with the punches. 

They train for a while longer, and by the end of it, Tobias’s arms are screaming. He pants, fanning himself. He’d love to take off this stupid Sunday shirt if he weren’t so self-conscious. For now, he’ll stick to suffering in silence. He downs a bottle of water quickly, pushing away the desire to pour it all over his face. Aliana strolls over, hardly breaking a sweat. She leans up against the wall beside him, sipping her own water coolly. 

“Nice work today, Fletcher.” She holds her bottle out to him, and he clinks it with his own. 

“Thanks, Commander.” He smiles cheerily, wiping his forehead. Aliana nods, looking off ahead. Tobias eyes her inquisitively, looking away quickly when she notices. 

“What?” She asks, narrowing her eyes. Tobias rubs his arms, looking off. 

“Well...” He trails off, tapping his pointer fingers together. “I’m curious about something.” Tobias states. Aliana drinks some more of her water, wiping at her mouth when it drips. 

“Shoot.” 

“Well...y’see, what made you want to work here, anyways?” Tobias asks, tilting his head. “I mean, isn’t it super dangerous?” Aliana’s brows furrow and her eyes narrow. 

“Is it because I’m a woman?” She asks steadily. Tobias gasps and wave his arms animatedly in an attempt to diminish the accusation. 

“Not at all!” He squeaks. “I’ve just noticed a trend around here. Nobody seems to know _why_ they work here.” Tobias sighs looking at the floor. Aliana’s expression relaxes as she ponders for a moment. 

“My family isn’t happy about it. I guess that’s why.” She informs honestly, refusing to meet his gaze when he looks over in surprise. 

“Rough home life?” Tobias asks. Aliana shrugs nonchalantly. 

“Let’s just say they had a different perspective on how my life should go. Becoming a spy isn’t exactly one of ‘em.” She leaves it at that. 

“My godparents don’t even know about me working here...” Tobias admits with a strained chuckle. “They think I’m just some aloof receptionist I guess.” Aliana snorts at that. 

“Well, guess one day we’ll have to stick it to the old coots then.” She winks, walking to grab her things. She walks towards the door, jacket in arm. “Same time tomorrow, kay Fletcher?” Aliana calls over her shoulder. Tobias grins brightly in her direction. 

“Y-Yes! I-I mean, of course, Commander!” He calls back. 

_~~Afterwards~~_

“So, she’s trainin’ ya now?!” Remmie gapes at Tobias incredulously. Julian and James mirror the same expression. Tobias exchanges glances with each of them, nodding. 

“Yea. It wasn’t her choice, though.” He admits, rubbing the back of his neck. Julian crosses his arms. 

“It’s almost like you have this weird effect on people.” The Polish boy states with narrowed eyes. James and Remmie snort at that. Tobias shakes his head, rolling his eyes with a smile. Suddenly, James looks across the room and cringes. 

“Oh no, Fletch. You’re dead meat now. William Murphy is givin’ you the death glare.” He grimaces. Tobias’s eyes widen fearfully as he quickly glances over his shoulder. Sure enough, William is leaning against the wall, staring daggers at Tobias. 

“Ey don’ worry, Fletch. Ya got us now.” Remmie promises, placing his hands on his hips. “We’ll protect ya!” Tobias smiles up at him, but still feels unconvinced. 

Tobias looks at the time, realizing how late it is. He looks to his group of friends, smiling warmly. 

“I have to go, guys.” Tobias gives a little wave, jabbing his thumb at the entrance. The group of boys all ‘boo’ at him, but wave goodbye, nonetheless. 

Tobias leaves feeling a warmth in his heart. He made new friends. The feeling doesn’t last long, and is soon replaced by immense dread. His conversation with Maxime worries him to the extent of nausea. A target is now on Tobias’s back and he doesn’t know what to do. Tobias waits at the bus-stop, pondering anxiously. He isn’t strong enough to take down a criminal organization. Nor is he cunning enough. When he takes the bus home, Tobias stares out of the window solemnly. He realizes how his life is about to drastically change. He feels like a deer caught in a snare. Completely helpless, waiting for an inevitable death. He knows he’ll do anything to protect his family, but is that truly enough? 

“Ey kid, move over will ya?” Tobias moves his stuff over to allow an elderly veteran to sit beside him. A sigh escapes Tobias as he takes in the city lights of Harlem. The shadows seem bigger than they were before, and the people appear more questionable to the receptionist. Tobias bites his nails at what is to come. 


	13. Stakeout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aliana Lewis has been in the spy game for years. She is very annoyed to hear that she will be on a stakeout mission with a rookie. This isn't exactly how she envisioned spending her evening. Nevertheless, the HNYSA needs answers. She needs to find out whether a possible partnership is forming between Simon Muller, a human trafficker, and the Kamizakis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was fun writing in a different POV! Hope you enjoy!! I deleted a chapter between the jazz duo, Marcus and Winnie. It just didn't make sense for the story sadly. But, I might make a side serious of misadventures between them!
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4toIcm2VpKUJXFVclHsNgg?si=xFqsXFpCTXy-dpgjljYtaw

Aliana wakes up in her apartment, groaning from the cold. 

Her muscles ache from the freezing temperature, and she rubs her arms to warm them up. She will have to yell at her landlord about that later. Aliana gets out of her bed, hunching over slightly. She walks over to her small kitchen to brew a mediocre cup of coffee. 

While she waits, she grabs her copy of yesterday’s newspaper. She skims through the pages, only half-interested in what’s going on. The usual everyday news of a store owner relocating, or the bread baking competition winner fills up the pages. Nothing about Saturday’s mishap can be found. Not a single word. Usually, the state government likes to keep attacks like these on the _down-low_, so as not to disturb the peace. America’s residents already loved to jump to conclusions regarding foreign countries. Keeping things quiet prevents hysteria from ensuing. Her coffee-maker beeps, so she closes the newspaper. Aliana speedily downs her coffee, cursing the clock. 

She gets dressed quickly, not bothering to check her appearance. Looking presentable is a staple in most women’s lives, but to her, it hardly matters. With Aliana’s career, it is quite unnecessary to spend hours on hair and makeup. For now, it is what it is. She brushes her hair into place using her fingers and grabs her leather coat. 

The cold winter air buffets against her face as soon as she strolls out. The trees are bare, and the ground is covered in a thick layer of snow. Several men are out on the street with snowplows, cursing the cold weather while they work. Aliana passes them, hands in her pockets. She ignores the whistles and catcalls being thrown her direction. As she nears the HNYSA, she passes by a familiar Brit with curly blonde hair. Charlotte, with her beautiful smile, strolls up to her with a friendly wave. 

“Good morning, Ms. Lewis!” She greets cheerily. Aliana inclines her head in greeting. 

“A good morning to you as well, Ms. Montgomery.” In response to that, the blonde rolls her eyes and waves her hand. 

“I’ve told you already, call me Charlotte.” She giggles, wrapping her pink princess coat around herself tightly. Aliana nods in response, walking in step with her boss. Charlotte looks down at Aliana curiously. “How’s the training been going, love?” Her boss asks inquisitively. She internally groans, but outwardly retains her cool visage. 

“The kid has the form down, but I’m afraid he’s just...” She struggles to find the right word for Tobias’s physical stature. Charlotte snorts and places a comforting hand on Aliana’s shoulder. 

“He’s got a good spirit for being thrown into all this.” Charlotte hums. “Give him time, we _all_ have to start somewhere, hm?”

Aliana sighs, still unsure about that. The boy has a similar build to a foal. Long and gangly. Awkward and ungraceful. They are close to the tall building now. Charlotte shakes her head grumbling.

“Why do I always dread coming to work?” The shorter girl perks up at that. 

“Have things gotten worse?” Aliana asks out of concern while she opens the door for her. Charlotte’s posture changes to a slightly less poised position. She lets out a defeated sigh, twirling a blonde lock of hair. Despite her girlish mannerisms and gentleness, Aliana’s seen the woman fight. She fights quick and lethal, like a venomous snake. Aliana always preferred brute force, but she can appreciate the intricate beauty in Charlotte’s fighting style. Now, the blonde holds an unsure heaviness that sets Aliana on edge. It isn’t like Charlotte to lose her composure. 

“Maxime’s trying his best, of course. But things haven’t gotten better, sadly. I’m considering relocating.” Aliana stiffens at that, and she can see that Charlotte isn’t thrilled about the idea either. Her jaw is clenched, and her gaze is hard. “It’s for the agents' best.” She sighs. As they make their way toward the training room, Aliana lets out a frustrated growl, clenching her fists. 

“I don’t understand! Why can’t we just go to their location and shoot up the place?” She hisses, face red with anger. Charlotte gives her a tired look, shaking her head. 

“You know why, Aliana. This is what separates us from soldiers. The spy game involves _tons_ of patience.” She breathes. “We can’t just rush in there and shoot up the place, even though the idea is appealing.” Aliana nods solemnly, though still toying with the idea. She lets out a shaky breath before giving her boss a farewell. 

She makes her way to the trainees, yawning and stretching still. She stops in front of them, hands behind her back. The one boy, William Murphy, wears a wounded dog expression. Never making direct eye-contact. Oddly, it satisfies her. She'd rather have men dislike her rather than underestimating her. She steps in front of them, arms behind her back. 

“Good morning, gentleman.” She nods her head curtly.

The trainees exchange nervous glances before responding with a quiet ‘good morning’. Aliana spots Tobias’s nervous, yet eager, gaze among them. He shifts his feet, looking to her attentively. She begins. 

_~~Personal Training~~_

“You can do better than that, Fletcher.” She barks while the tall boy_ attempts_ a pull-up. His form is atrocious, and she can see the sweat break out on his temple. Tobias gasps as he pulls himself up halfway before finally giving up. 

“Can... can I...” He pants, holding his stomach. “Take...a break?” He gasps for air, fanning himself. He wears a simple white t-shirt today, obviously learning from his previous mistake. Aliana struts up to him, arms crossed. She cocks her head slightly, quirking a brow. 

“Do you think your enemies will give you a break?” She asks steadily. Tobias groans at that, shaking his head. 

“Maybe not, but you’re not my enemy.” He points out tiredly. Aliana feels anger beginning to boil inside of her and she stomps forward. 

“I _could_ be.” She states. Tobias snorts at that, shaking his head. Aliana’s brows furrow and she clenches her fists. She isn’t prepared for what he says next. 

“If you attacked me now, I’d just accept my death. You’re more terrifying than the actual criminals.” He bites his lip, realizing what he just said. Aliana blinks up at him. She feels a smile tug at her lips, and she shoves his shoulder slightly. 

“Alright, enough with the butt-kissing, Fletcher.” She snorts, grabbing his water bottle. She tosses it to him, and he catches it. Tobias laughs awkwardly before downing the water quickly.

Aliana grabs a towel, wiping the sweat off her forehead. She leans up against the wall, looking through a file Maxime gave her during lunch.

There is a possible mission in Aliana’s future. What she must do is go on a stakeout where Kamizaki herself is said to meet. An Austrian fellow, Simon Muller, will be conducting a business deal that evening. Supposedly, Muller will be there to exchange fragile bank info on Harlem’s richest citizens. The information could lead to larceny. Thievery is a crime that seems almost pathetic to get bent out of shape over. Sadly, that isn’t the _only_ bad thing about this supposed ‘meet-up’. If Simon Muller is a criminal, he should just exploit the riches himself. Some are speculating the reward for such info is a business deal with Ms. Kamizaki. This business deal is would involve Ms. Kamizaki's trade. She's a human trafficker. She smuggles people to the U.S. promising them citizenship, before selling them to local buyers. As Aliana’s eyes scan the files, she feels someone’s breath tickle her neck. Aliana’s eyebrow twitches as she closes the file quickly. 

“Stop looking over my shoulder, Fletcher.” Tobias gives her a sheepish look, taking a step back. 

“Whatcha readin’?” He asks curiously, hands behind his back. He leans over ever so slightly, probably hoping to catch a glimpse. She doesn’t bother fueling the boy’s intrigue, though. 

“It’s classified.” She states simply. A soft whine escapes the tall receptionist and he gives her a pleading look. One might find the expression endearing, but she’s a hard woman to crack. Instead, she bites her cheek, scowling up at him. “I said _no.”_ She warns before shooing Tobias away. Aliana makes a bee-line out of the room, dodging Tobias, in order to meet up with Maxime. 

She walks down the hallway and finds his office. She knocks twice before entering the room. Maxime sits at his desk casually. A pair of circular readers rest on the tip of his nose as he reads a stack full of files. His legs are propped up on his desk. Maxime’s eyes flick up to meet Aliana’s and he places the file down. 

“Ah, Agent Lewis.” Maxime inclines his head in greeting. “You’re the one I wanted to see.” Aliana gives a timid wave in return before taking a seat across from him. “I have a mission for you.” Maxime states simply, shoving a file her way. 

“Does it have anything to do with the one you gave me during lunch?” Aliana asks, cocking her head slightly. Maxime nods solemnly, entwining his fingers. 

“The stakeout mission. We need to be sure that Simon Muller and Ms. Kamizaki are connected somehow.” He sighs, playing with the Newton’s cradle on his desk. Aliana blinks at him, nodding her head slightly. 

“I’ll do my best, sir.” She states. Maxime looks up at her seriously now. 

“And you’re going to take the rookie with ya.” As soon as the words leave Maxime’s mouth, Aliana’s mouth opens to argue. 

“Sir, the kid is _hardly_ ready for something like this.” Her face contorts in frustration. Maxime simply blinks up at her. 

“I am well aware of his physical stature and lack of combat training.” He informs smartly. “But this is merely a stakeout mission. I think it will be good for him.” Maxime sips his lukewarm coffee from a mug that says _‘#1 Spy’_. Aliana scoffs at that. 

“_Good_ for him?” She gestures wildly. “He’s been training for two weeks, sir!” Maxime holds up his hand patiently. 

“Tobias Fletcher is a terrible fighter, but he has good instincts.” He points out. Aliana cocks her head, still not convinced. Maxime continues. “Do you believe physical stature is what makes you an agent?” He asks her steadily. 

“No, sir. But he is still new!” She points out matter-of-factly. Maxime sighs like a tired father telling his children why too much sugar is a bad thing. 

“Agent Lewis, he is _your_ trainee. He will just act as an assistant. To get a feel for the job.” Maxime gives a look that signifies there will be no further protest. Aliana scowls at the floor, nodding briskly. She turns and walks out of the office in a huff. 

Tobias Fletcher is the _least_ subtle person for a stakeout job. Aliana would rather a blind chicken with one foot be her stakeout partner. Tobias would more readily make friendship bracelets with an enemy before killing a man. This is going to be the_ worst_ mission ever. 

_~~The Next Day~~_

“A mission?” Tobias looks up at her, eyes full of confusion. He is currently sitting at the cafeteria digging into a cup of chocolate pudding. Aliana stands in front of him, arms crossed. 

“Yes, a mission.” She sighs, not quite believing it herself. “You’re going to go on a stakeout with me.” Aliana states. She watches as his eyebrows furrow confusedly. 

“We’re going to a steak-out? Like, with food?” Tobias asks innocently. 

Aliana almost pity laughs but stifles it quickly. This is going to be a_ long_ day. 

“No. We’re just spying from afar. Waiting for something to happen.” She explains tiredly. Comprehension passes through his gaze and he nods sheepishly. The look instantly returns to confusion, though. 

“Why would _I_ be on the mission?” He asks, shocked. Aliana swallows back her own remarks before answering. 

“Mr. Stanford figured it would be good for you.” Her tone conveys her lack of agreement on the decision. Tobias seems to catch on. 

“At least we can both agree how much of a _bad_ idea that is.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. Aliana gives him a pitying look, walking over to collect the file. She makes her way out the door halfway before looking behind her. 

“You comin’?” Aliana asks with a sigh, quirking her brow. Tobias’s eyes widen and he nods quickly. He hops up out of his chair and skips beside her. 

Aliana walks down the hallway and towards the artillery room. In front of her is a wall displaying weapons of multiple sizes. She grabs her CZ 52 pistol off the shelf and places it in the holster on her hip. She watches Tobias’ eye boggle at the sight of so many weapons. He clears his throat. 

“That’s... a lot of weapons.” He breathes out shakily. Aliana grabs a small knife and carries it by the blade gently. She holds out the handle for him to grab. He takes it from her hesitantly. Tobias eyes the weapon before looking back up at Aliana questioningly. “What’s this for?” 

“Protection. You’re not familiar with guns yet.” She informs a tad impatiently, grabbing two black flak jackets. She hands one to Tobias before putting her own on. He gulps, tugging at his collar. 

"Isn't a knife just as dangerous without experience?" He squeaks. Aliana narrows her eyes at him, nodding. 

"Technically yes. But at least it won't affect me." She shrugs nonchalantly, causing him to shudder. 

“Uhm... how dangerous _is_ this mission, exactly?” He rasps, face pale. Aliana sighs and straps herself in her flak jacket. She turns around to face him. 

“It should be fine. We’re only keeping watch, and I’ll be there with you.” She states simply. Tobias’ face contorts to a fearful expression, but he says nothing. He attempts to put on the vest, having trouble with the straps. Aliana groans internally before walking over to help him. She grabs one of his straps, tightening it quickly. She travels down the line of them. With every tightening pull, she feels a sharp intake of breath from Tobias. Perhaps she secured them a tad_ too_ much. 

“I-I think it’s tight enough.” He strains, face scrunched up in discomfort. Aliana rolls her eyes before trudging out the door. 

“Come on. We have a stakeout mission to get over with.” She reminds, agitated. Tobias rushes alongside her, a fake smile plastered on his face. He stands a tad rigid than before. 

_ ~~A few hours later~~ _

Aliana wraps her coat around herself tightly, shivering a little. She and Tobias sit inside her black Plymouth Roadking. Tobias has his long legs propped up on her dashboard, much to her displeasure. She relents, though, too tired to fight him about it. Tobias, despite his usual upbeat personality, seems to mellow out a little more now. He currently struggles to keep his eyes open. It is currently _12:47am_, and Aliana is starting to feel the familiar weight of exhaustion. She lets out a tired yawn, stretching her arms. Tobias’s mismatched eyes snap open at the sound. He looks at her, resting his head on his hand. 

“How long have we been out here?” Tobias asks quietly, looking ahead. Aliana counts on her fingers. 

“Five hours.” She responds sleepily. She hears a groan from him, almost causing her to chuckle. Most agents that she had shared a mission with never complained. Tobias Fletcher has a childishness about him that is drastically different from what she is used to. She isn’t quite sure whether or not that’s a good thing. 

“So, this ‘Muller’ guy is a bad criminal, right?”

The question causes Aliana to turn and gape at Tobias incredulously. She is confused as to how he knows all of this. She didn’t even tell him the criminal’s name. 

“_Two_ seconds of looking at a file, and you already know all that?!” She gasps, shocked. Tobias looks at her, smiling awkwardly. 

“I’m a fast reader...and learner...” He admits with a chuckle. Aliana shakes her head, stunned. She has never met anybody who could retain things _that_ quickly. Aliana decides she will have to ask him about it another time. 

“To answer your question, yes, Muller is a bad criminal.” She informs him. Tobias’s eyes widen considerably. 

“How dangerous _are_ these people?" He asks nervously, fingertips dancing along his knife holster. Aliana holds up a hand to calm him. 

“Stop freaking out on me, Fletcher. I won’t let them hurt you.” She reclines her chair back slightly, resting her eyes for a few moments. Aliana _desperately_ wants some peace and quiet, but she fears that is impossible now. Tobias asks _way_ too many questions for an agent. She prefers the_ ‘no-questions-asked'_ type of scenario that most agents give her. As she feels herself drift off slowly, Tobias’s cheery voice jolts her awake. 

“So, you said your parents didn’t approve of all this, right?” He asks curiously, head cocked.

Aliana quirks one brow, annoyed. Most wouldn’t _dare_ asking her that question. She isn’t sure whether Tobias has a lot of nerve or is just really dense. Nontheless, she relents. 

“They didn’t want me to get a job as a spy, if that’s what you’re asking.” She states bluntly, hands resting behind her head.

Tobias curls his legs up on the seat, child-like curiosity in his gaze. The eager look he’s giving displays that he wants her to continue. She sighs. “I don’t exactly _get along_ with my parents. They’re more traditional, I guess.” Aliana runs a hand through her hair, shrugging indifferently. 

“My dad was never the best.” Aliana turns to look at Tobias, a tad surprised. He looks out in front of him, though. “He wasn’t around much...” He laughs emptily. “He didn’t expect me to amount to anything.” Tobias’s expression turns melancholy. Aliana props up on her elbow, looking at him. A surge of sympathy rushes through her. 

“I guess we’ll have to prove them wrong, shall we?” She gives him a small smile. It is Tobias’s turn to be surprised now. His eyes widen before he smiles back and nods fervently. Aliana looks outside her window. 

A light layer of snow starts to flutter down gently, giving the evening an ethereal aura. Snowflakes rest on her car before melting immediately. Aliana feels herself drifting off, so she turns to look at her partner. Maybe his small-talk will keep her awake. She snorts when she realizes Tobias is fast asleep. He snores softly, messy hair in his eyes. His thin legs are curled up in the chair, and his chest rises and falls gently. Aliana huffs, shaking her head as she keeps watch. She blinks the sleep out of her eyes and focuses ahead. 

After a little while, Aliana notices something that causes the hair on the back of her neck to stick up. She gently shakes Tobias’ shoulder to wake him up, eyes fixed on the scene. He groans and rubs his eyes sleepily. 

“Wha-…?” Tobias looks at her questioningly. Aliana places a finger to her lips before pointing ahead. Farther up ahead stands a balding middle-aged man in a puffy green coat. She assumes him to be Simon Muller. He stands across from a tall Japanese woman. Aliana grabs a small camera out of her bag and snaps a few photos. Tobias blinks slowly at the scene, not fully awake. 

“Is that the guy we’re looking for?” He rasps in a low voice. Aliana nods briskly before setting the camera down again. 

“I can’t tell if this is good or not.” She sighs, rubbing her temple. Tobias shifts in his seat. 

“What do you mean?” He asks nervously before looking back at the man. 

“Good news is, our suspicions were right. Bad news is, our suspicions were right.” She lets out a bitter laugh. “Muller, that man over there? He’s bad news. I’m not sure I like the idea of him and that woman teaming up.” Aliana shakes her head. 

“What do we do?” Tobias asks, eyebrows furrowing. Aliana bites her lip, staring angrily at the wheel in front of her. Her jaw clenches. 

“I’m afraid this is the _worst_ part about being a spy..._waiting_.” She grumbles before twisting the key and starting the car. Thankfully, they parked far enough away so as not to attract attention. Tobias’s eyebrows furrow and he looks in front of him again. 

“We should _do_ something!” He hisses quietly. Aliana doesn’t want to admit it, but she agrees with the rookie. She’d rather cut the head off the snake. She fears what results this partnership between Muller and the Kamizakis will bring. Sadly, Aliana has orders now. She can’t just go rogue like she used to... 

“We can’t, Fletcher.” She replies regretfully. “As much as it pains me to say it, we have to listen to Maxime.”

Tobias whines in response. Shocking. He doesn’t say anything, though. He simply crosses his arms and pouts, staring out at the falling snow. Aliana pulls out of the parking lot slowly.

_ ~~At Tobias’ House~~ _

“This is your place, right?” Aliana asks as she pulls up to a quaint apartment complex. Tobias gapes at her for a moment. 

“How do you know where I _live?”_ He asks, shocked. Aliana shrugs nonchalantly. 

“I know lots of things, Fletcher. We keep tabs on everyone.” She points out. Tobias’s mouth still hangs open slightly, but he nods. 

“Thanks for the ride home.” He smiles warmly, giving a little wave. Aliana finds herself smiling back. 

“No problem, rookie.” She chuckles as he gets out of her car. Tobias giggles at that. 

“Will anyone _ever_ call me by my actual name, Commander?” He muses causing Aliana to snort. 

“Guess not. Have a nice night. Want you back at the academy bright and early.” She reminds, going back to her serious demeanor.

He nods in response, turning around and walking to his apartment.

Suddenly, a loud and familiar _bang_ is heard, causing Aliana to flinch. Her head snaps in the direction of Tobias, and she sees him clutching his left arm, eyes wide. His lips are slightly parted due to shock. Aliana calls out to him. 


	14. Hit The Road Jack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tobias has been shot, and it's up to Aliana to patch him up. She must first get him to safety. Multiple questions run through her head. The main one being "Who is the shooter?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Editing has been taking a lot longer, but I'm glad for it. I want these chapters to be GOOD. So! Here it is! Hope you enjoy!  
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4toIcm2VpKUJXFVclHsNgg?si=P7NgUjdbSLe4JWsfM339BQ

“Get in the car!” She growls before swiftly opening the passenger’s side. 

Tobias rushes in, flinching as another shot is heard. It barely skims past his head while he plops into the seat. Aliana doesn’t hesitate to floor it. Tobias takes his hand off his arm, staring at the scarlet liquid now covering his hand. The smell of it is nauseatingly coppery. 

“I-I’ve been shot.” He states shakily. His breathing quickens and his face is frozen in shock. While driving, Aliana glances over at him a tad concerned. 

“Hey, hey. Calm down, Tobias. Don’t freak out on me, alright.” She tells him calmly, unlike her insane driving skills. She should’ve known they’d been spotted. She attempts to put him at ease with some encouragement. “You’re gonna be alright, Agent Fletcher.” Aliana reminds him gently. Tobias nods slightly, hand gripping his arm. 

While they drive, a bullet finds its way into her bumper, causing her to mutter a stream of curses. She happens to like this car. Thankfully, the shooter doesn’t manage to hit the glass. She decides the safest place right now is her apartment. That way she doesn’t draw the assassin to the HNYSA. She begins to wonder about the identity of the assassin. 

After they reach the parking garage, Aliana rushes to the passenger side. She helps Tobias out of the car gently. Even though his injury is in his shoulder, his legs wobble too much to walk by himself. 

“I got you.” She whispers calmly, allowing him to lean up against her. Much to her surprise, he seems to be steadier on his feet after a few moments. In fact, he looks to her with a determined gleam in his eyes. 

“Did you see who shot me?” He asks carefully while they walk to her apartment. She turns to him before they step into the building. Thankfully, the front desk people must be on break, for they are nowhere to be found. She punches the upward arrow next to the elevator. 

“I didn’t.” She responds shortly while they step into the rickety platform. He lets out a sharp breath of frustration. Aliana’s main concern right now is Tobias’s blood loss. She needs to patch him up quickly before he loses too much. She can worry about the one responsible for this after they’re safe. 

“C’mon kid, let’s get you cleaned up.” Aliana sighs while twisting the key in the lock. If she knew she was about to have company today, she would have cleaned up a little. Unfortunately, Aliana doesn’t have time to think about her unsightly living condition right now. What matters is her partner’s health. 

Tobias inhales sharply as he goes to sit at her small roundtable. His adrenaline seems to be running thin now, considering the pained expression on his face. Aliana wastes no time rushing to her bathroom, rifling through her medicine cabinet. She grabs an army green tourniquet and some gauze. She also finds a pair of long tweezers and a flask of whiskey. She walks back to Tobias, placing everything down on the table. He looks up at her inquisitively. Aliana tears his left sleeve off, causing a surprised gasp from him. 

“W-What are you doing with those?” Tobias’ eyes widen fearfully at the tweezers. His face is gleaming with sweat and his breathing comes out in rasps. Aliana ignores him, wrapping the tourniquet around his arm and tightening it. Tobias lets out a slight yelp at the pain. 

“I have to get the bullet out of your arm.” Aliana informs him, gazing at him steadily. “This is gonna hurt a lot. I apologize in advance.” She mutters, eyeing the oozing wound on his left arm. The blood had already soaked the left side of his shirt _completely_. She’s not a professional when it comes to patching people up, but she’ll try her best. For his sake, at least. Aliana pours whiskey onto the tweezers and wipes them off with a clean towel. Tobias scoots back slightly. 

“I-I don’t know, maybe we...we can just wait? Go to a hospital?” He gives a hopeful smile, but his eyes are full of terror. Aliana gives him a steady look, scooting closer. 

“Too dangerous.” She explains impatiently, holding the tweezers up to the wound. Tobias recoils back, causing Aliana to grab his arm. After holding him still, she raises the bottle of whiskey near his lips. Tobias eyes it cautiously. 

“So you don’t feel anything.” She tells him shortly. He still looks unsure but takes a sip. Immediately, his face scrunches up in disgust. 

“It burns! That’s disgusting!” Tobias gags before Aliana tilts the liquid back into his mouth. 

“It’ll help. Trust me, you’re gonna wish you drank more.” She sighs before taking the bottle away. 

“This is going to hurt _really_ bad.” She states, grabbing her tools. 

Aliana holds her hand out for him to grab. Tobias takes it firmly, eyes wide. Aliana grabs a clean, white towel and sticks it in his mouth to bite on. She brings the tweezers up to his wound before taking a deep breath. Aliana sticks it in. 

His shrieks of pain are muffled by the towel in his mouth. Her jaw is clenched through the whole process of locating the bullet. After a couple of painful minutes, Aliana finally scratches against something promising. The bullet. Carefully, she grabs it and brings it out. She plops it on the counter with a _clink_, sighing with relief. 

Tobias’s eyebrows are still scrunched together, and his expression is pained. He whimpers softly while she cleans around the wound. Aliana starts to patch him up gently. 

Tobias slowly lets go of her hand before looking up at her. His left arm is in a makeshift sling now, and he seems to be regaining color in his face. Aliana glances at him, mildly concerned. 

“You feeling better, Fletcher?” She asks, getting up from her chair. Tobias lets out a shaky breath, looking at his arm. 

“For a guy who just got _shot_... I’d say I’m doing surprisingly well.” He gives a strained smile. She can see a hazy look in his eyes due to the alcohol. 

Suddenly, Tobias burps from the whiskey. An embarrassed blush is on his face, and he gives an apologetic smile. Aliana snorts, patting his other shoulder. She goes to brew some coffee. 

“You’re surprisingly tough for a rookie.” She muses, grabbing a mug. Tobias’s smile grows and he looks up eagerly. 

“Y-You think so?!” He beams, swaying slightly. Aliana gives a slight nod, trying not to praise the kid _too_ much. She goes to sit across from him, mug in hand. 

Tobias bites his lip, staring at the floor. Aliana cocks her head to him slightly. 

“You alright, kid?” She asks, causing him to meet her gaze tiredly. The alcohol seems to be mellowing him out. 

“Just sleepy.” He yawns before wincing at his arm. “I just don’t know why they’re after me.” Tobias admits unsteadily, eyebrows twisting together. 

Aliana sighs while running a hand through her short dark hair. She instinctively touches below her ribs on the right side, resulting in a confused look from Tobias. She glances at him before shaking her head. 

“It’s a scar. I got shot on the field 3 years ago.” Aliana explains. Tobias’s eyes widen considerably. 

“How did it happen?” He gasps. She shrugs nonchalantly, removing her hand from the spot. 

Aliana thinks back to that very night. She can almost hear the staticky music and clapping hands. Cigarettes mingling with the smell of booze. People screaming interrupted the night along with the sound of a gunshot. The bullet belonging to it found its way into her. 

Aliana blinks her eyes back into focus. “Long story short, never flirt with a Russian general.” She states simply. 

“Wasn’t planning on it.” Tobias snorts before wincing and holding his arm. Aliana rushes over to him to see if he needs help. 

“Once I know it’s safe, you should really go to a hospital.” She points out, eyebrows furrowed. Tobias's pained expression quickly turns to immense terror. He looks up at her fearfully. 

“What if my family found out about me being a spy?!” He gasps. “My godmother is already suspicious of my receptionist job!” Aliana blinks at him, not sharing his concerns. 

“You could just tell her the truth.” She crosses her arms impatiently. Tobias shakes his head fervently, running his hand through his hair. 

“I can’t! I don’t know what I’m gonna do, Commander Lewis...” He bites his lip, eyes watering. “I just screw things up. I had a gun to my head, I have a target on me, and to top it all off, I get shot!?” He rambles in disbelief. Aliana’s eyebrow twitches. 

“You done?” She deadpans. Tobias gives her a surprised look, opening his mouth to say something before shutting it. He nods wordlessly. “Good. Tell your godparents it was my fault.” Aliana states. Tobias’s face scrunches up. 

“But they’ll wanna know how I got shot.” He points out, causing Aliana to groan in frustration. She plops in one of the chairs. 

“Just tell ‘em you got a pencil stuck in your arm or something.” She rests her head in her hands. Tobias cracks a smile and giggles at that, causing her to chuckle also. They share an exhausted look. 

Tobias yawns tiredly, attempting to blink the sleep out of his eyes. His eyes are unfocused, and he sways slightly. Aliana looks at the clock, reading _1:30am._ She looks over at her small, blue couch. She sighs, cursing her kindness. 

“Do you want to sleep here?” Aliana asks in flatly. Tobias perks up, meeting her gaze with surprise. 

“Really? I-I can stay?” He asks incredulously. Aliana’s lip twitches, her expression flat. 

“Yes. Don’t make me regret it.” Tobias smiles at her genuinely, inclining his head in thanks. She nods wordlessly before getting up. 

“You get the couch. If I catch you near my room, I’ll make sure to shoot your other arm.” She states darkly, a slight smile on her face. Tobias gulps fearfully, nodding his head. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He laughs uneasily. Aliana nods before making her way to her room. 

“G’night, Fletcher.” She calls over her shoulder before slamming the door behind her. 


	15. Knockin' At Your Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tobias wakes up in Aliana's apartment realizing how awful he truly feels. She is kind enough at least to take him to a hospital. Still, after getting patched up, it is hard not to worry about the person responsible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy it!! I might edit some more throughout these next few days. The next chapter coming up is one I'm most excited about!!   
EDIT: It has taken me THIS long to realize how bad the formatting for this was, oof. I fixed it completely. It is because when I transferred it from Word Doc, it reformatted. I have to transfer from word to WordPad and then finally to Archive. It is a TON of work, but it is worth it. 
> 
> (Title is based off a song by 'The New Morty Show')
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4toIcm2VpKUJXFVclHsNgg?si=ceCDl1cgTciRDowpkEq1BQ

Tobias wakes up on the couch groggily, stretching his arms. 

His head throbs painfully from last night’s, no, _morning’s_ alcohol. He winces when he tries sitting up. He looks down at his arm, remembering the events that lead to this moment. Shifting in the kitchen causes him to gasp. He almost forgot where he was. 

He looks in the kitchen to see Aliana leaning against the counter. She sips her coffee, looking at him with half-interest. 

“Morning. Nice hair by the way.” She states with amusement. Tobias’s face reddens and he shakes his head. He usually doesn’t mind his messy hair...for the most part. 

“G’morning, Commander.” He smiles weakly. His arm is still quite sore, as to be expected. Aliana seems to catch on. 

“How’re ya holding up?” She asks sympathetically, walking over to the couch. 

Tobias shrugs, looking to the right. “Could be worse.” He sighs. Aliana places her mug on the table, looking at him seriously. 

“We should get you to a hospital. You’re not looking like a hunk of heartbreak, that’s for sure.” She states bluntly. Tobias laughs weakly, looking down at his sling. 

“I’m not feeling like one either... whatever _that_ means” He admits, running a shaky hand through his hair. 

Tobias watches as Aliana immediately gets up from the couch and straightens the pillows. She walks over to her coat rack and grabs her black, leather jacket. He cocks his head at her inquisitively. 

“You can’t stay like this. You need a hospital.” She explains impatiently, shooing him to get up. Tobias doesn’t hesitate to do so, not wishing to be on the Commander’s_ bad side._ He slips on his black sneakers and grabs his brown coat. Much to his dismay, it now has a hole in the left shoulder. 

Aliana walks over, eyeing his coat. “I think you got a hole in it.” She states the obvious. 

“No kidding.” Tobias snorts back before looking at the floor. “I-I mean...yes commander.” She waves her hand at him, smiling. 

“You just got shot. Least I can do is let you joke around a bit.” She sighs before taking off her own jacket. She ties the sleeves around his neck, causing him to look at her in surprise. Aliana just shrugs in response. 

“So you don’t get cold.” She states simply, walking ahead of him. Tobias smiles after her, touching the sleeve gently. Maybe she isn’t _so_ bad. He runs to catch up with her. 

~~~ 

Tobias sits on the bench in the hospital waiting room, kicking his legs back and forth. A little girl sits next to him, holding her arm with tears in her eyes. 

“What happened?” He asks her gently out of curiosity. The little girl looks at him in surprise before looking back at her bruised arm. 

“I-I think I broke it...” She sniffles, wiping at her nose with her good hand. Tobias sighs knowingly. 

“Play too rough?” He smiles at her kindly. She shakes her head slowly. 

“Dorothy Thompson...she pushed me at recess yesterday.” She whimpers, voice tinged with hurt. Tobias’s eyebrows scrunch together, sympathy flooding through him. 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He sighs. “I used to have bullies myself.” 

The little girl looks at him quizzically. “Is that what happened to _your_ arm?” She gasps, causing him to snort. 

“In a way, yes.” He sighs, looking up as Aliana makes her way over with a clipboard. 

She glances at the little girl and back at him questioningly. Tobias shrugs. 

“Is that your girlfriend?” The little girl asks curiously. 

Aliana’s head snaps in the girl’s direction, nostrils flared. Her eyes are full of silent fury. Tobias gasps at the question, shaking his head fervently. 

“No no no, she is _not_ my girlfriend.” He looks to the little girl with a smile. “She helped me get away from the bully.” The little girl nods, waving to Aliana. 

She gives an impatient wave, eyebrow twitching, before turning her attention back to him. 

“We gotta be in and out of here fast, Fletcher.” Aliana’s eyes scan the room with suspicion. “We don’t know the assassin’s identity yet.” She hisses quietly to him.

Tobias looks around fearfully before meeting her gaze. “I’ll try my best... I just want this to be over...” He admits. 

The door opens and a nurse comes in the waiting room. She looks down at her clipboard before calling out. 

“Mr... Flincher?” She smiles hopefully. Tobias turns to Aliana with an annoyed look. 

“Really? Flincher?” He rolls his eyes, getting up. Aliana shrugs nonchalantly. 

“You can’t expect me to remember your last name, Fletcher.” She points out, not bothering to look up from her magazine. 

This causes his mouth to twitch because she literally just said his last name. He decides now is not the time to get upset, though. He follows the nurse down the hall to get patched up properly. 

  
_~~At Tobias’s House...again.~~ _

He looks at his godparents’ house with slight fear. He turns to Aliana in the car. 

“W-What if the assassin tries to shoot me again? Or my family?” His voice quavers fearfully. 

Aliana blinks at him, unfazed. “You’ll be fine. Do you want me to walk up with you?” She asks, arms crossed. Tobias meets her gaze sheepishly. 

“Actually, that might help a little.” He admits, looking down at his sling. Aliana sighs in understanding, getting out of her car. Together, they walk up to the house. 

Tobias shifts his feet nervously after ringing the doorbell. Little Nancy is the one to open it, and she looks up at him with tears in her eyes. She rushes at him, wrapping her arms around his midsection. 

“Tobias! You’re ok!” She sniffles, causing him to laugh. A surge of affection rushes through him and he hugs her back. 

“I was _only_ gone a day, Nancy!” He ruffles her blonde hair. She pulls away, looking at his arm and then at Aliana with confusion. 

Before Nancy has time to ask anything, Mrs. Capaldi stomps over, frying pan in hand. 

“Where have you been, _idiota!”_ She shouts heatedly, causing him to flinch. Her gaze instantly softens when she notices his arm. “_Bambina,_ what happened?” She rushes over to him. 

“I’m ok! Really!” He smiles, stepping back. He looks to Aliana. “I bumped into the fire extinguisher box and injured my arm. My co-worker here helped patch me up.” Mrs. Capaldi looks at Aliana with motherly interest. 

“Oh...is that why you were gone last night?’ She asks innocently. Tobias blinks at her, confused. Aliana’s face scrunches up in disgust, but she disguises it quickly. 

“He worked late last night, needed a place to crash.” She nudges Tobias gently. “My boss said he could stay with him. He also asked that I stop by and drop him off back home in the morning.” She holds out her hand to Mrs. Capaldi. “Aliana Lewis.” She smiles. Mrs. Capaldi takes it with a smile. 

“Mrs. Capaldi, but you can just call me Nonna.” She states. Nancy looks up at her eagerly. 

“You’re pretty!” She giggles. Aliana looks down at her, slightly taken aback. She tugs her collar. 

“T-Thank you.” She mumbles awkwardly. Tobias looks between them before clearing his throat. 

“Anyways, thank you, Mrs. Lewis, for dropping me off!” He inclines his head in thanks, opening up a way for her to escape. 

Aliana blinks at him before slowly nodding her head in understanding. Mrs. Capaldi steps forward, wagging her finger. 

“Oh no no, you must come in and sit with us!” She declares with a wink. Aliana’s eyes widen fearfully, and she exchanges a look with Tobias. 

Tobias looks to his godmother pleadingly. “I-I think she has some business to take care of.” He smiles. Nancy tugs on his Commander’s coat sleeve eagerly. 

“Please please _please?”_ She begs, sticking her bottom lip out. Aliana’s eyebrow twitches before giving a curt nod. 

Tobias chuckles at his little sister’s warm hospitality but worries for his Commander’s sanity. 

Mrs. Capaldi turns to him, eyebrow raised questioningly. “She’s quite pretty.” She muses. Tobias snorts at that. 

“She’s tough too.” He points out before walking inside. Mrs. Capaldi shakes her head knowingly before following after him. 

Aliana sits on the floor in the living room, currently having her hair braided by Nancy. Athena wags her nub of a tail beside her, occasionally licking her face. Tobias stifles a giggle at the scene. 

“Having fun, Mrs. Lewis?” He asks innocently, hands behind his back. She looks up at him, annoyed, while her hair is being pulled back tightly. 

“Oh yes...so much fun.” She exclaims unenthusiastically. Nancy wraps her arms around her neck. 

“All done! You look so pretty!” She squeals. A small smile tugs at the corners of Aliana’s mouth before it disappears without a trace. 

“Thank you.” She nods to Nancy, running her fingers over her hair. She then turns her gaze to him, mouthing _‘Can we talk?’_

Tobias sighs before nodding and walking down the hallway with her. Before they can reach the end of the hall, Lucardo’s door opens. He looks down at Aliana with keen interest, leaning against the door frame. 

“Tobias, you never told me you knew such a beautiful doll like this.” He winks to her. Aliana gives him a blank look, not impressed. 

“It’s _Agent_.” She looks him up and down before scowling. “If you don’t mind, we have business to get back to.” She grabs Tobias’s sleeve and stomps down the hall, leaving a wounded Lucardo. 

Tobias follows obediently before she stops suddenly. She turns to face him now that they are alone. 

“I know you’re happy to see your family.” Aliana sighs. “But we really have to focus on our mission.” Tobias cocks his head at that. 

“I-I thought the mission was over?” He exclaims, surprised. She shakes her head fervently. 

“Far from it. They obviously know who you are now, so this is _our_ mission to deal with.” She whispers before turning her head. 

Mrs. Capaldi stands at the end of the hall, shaking her head with a smile. 

“Crazy kids...” She mutters knowingly before walking back into the kitchen. 

Aliana scoffs before turning her attention back to him. 

“Just...watch your back, ok? And show up to work tomorrow.” She sighs. Tobias lays a comforting hand on her shoulder, causing her to look up in surprise. 

“I’ll be alright, Commander.” He smiles. “It was only_ one_ shot in the arm.” He teases, causing them both to laugh quietly. She holds out her pinky finger to him. 

“Pinky-promise, Fletch?” She snorts while he latches his pinky on to hers. 

He smiles, shaking his head. Despite her blunt demeanor, she can be quite hilarious when she wants to. Aliana quirks her brow at him. 

“You can let go of my pinkie now.” She says flatly, causing his face to flush in embarrassment. 

“S-Sorry, Commander.” He squeaks with a sheepish smile, retracting his hand. She rolls her eyes, walking down the hallway. 

“See ya tomorrow, kid.” She calls over her shoulder while walking out the door. 

Tobias lets out a sigh when she leaves, staring down at his arm. Whoever did this... it’s obvious they don’t like him. He’ll have to figure out how to go about this. Ways he can hide. 

Unfortunately, he has no clue who it could possibly _be. _


	16. Ain't That Just Like A Woman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur Diaz is a renowned assassin. Few try to get on his bad side, and those who do soon regret it. Despite his tough reputation, there is more to the man than just killing. The only problem is he can't remember what more there is to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy!! I loved writing about this really dynamic character such as Arthur Diaz. I wanted to create a villain that wasn't stale and cliche. 
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4toIcm2VpKUJXFVclHsNgg?si=qv1m0DSuTsmj1hrncfQaTw

Arthur rubs his temple, trying desperately to tune out Mrs. Kamizaki’s yelling. 

“You had _one_ job, and that was to kill the kid!” She hisses, obviously mad. 

He blinks back at her, unfazed. Although Aiko is renowned for her criminal activity, her methods are rarely cruel. He isn’t threatened by her, no. Because she’s a mother herself, she tends to choose her actions carefully. That is something he can use at least. 

“Are you even listening to me?” Aiko demands angrily, fingers dancing on her pistol. Arthur knows she won’t shoot unless she absolutely has to.

“I’m listening.” He mutters, rolling his eyes. 

Mrs. Kamizaki jumps back in shock, eyes wide. “Y-You could talk this _entire_ time?!” She gasps before trying to regain her composure. 

Arthur crosses his arms, drumming his fingers against them. “Of course I can talk. And I don’t have time to listen to you.” He replies coldly. 

Her face lights up in anger and she points her pistol at him. “You better explain to me what’s going on!” She growls. 

Arthur snorts at her bravery but isn’t threatened. If she wanted to kill him, she would have done it by now. 

“I have my own mission; I don’t have to answer to a Kamizaki.” He states bluntly. “And I know you’re not going to shoot me.” He turns around, strolling out of the office. 

“H-Hey! I wasn’t done talking to you!” He hears her shout behind him. 

He shakes his head, continuing to leave. It is as he expected. She never pulls the trigger. 

~~~ 

Walking out of the building, he stands and waits for a cab. The cool winter air feels nice against his face and the sound of traffic drowns out the noise in his head. Suddenly, a nearby telephone booth rings. The sound catches his attention, so Arthur strolls over to it. Sighing heavily, he picks it up. 

“Hello?” He asks into it, looking around to make sure he’s alone. Not a person in sight. After a few seconds, a heavily accented voice replies. 

“How did the mission with the boy go?” The Russian man asks. 

“Not even a ‘hello’ back? I’m hurt.” Arthur teases flatly, twirling the telephone line around his long fingers. No response. He sighs. “It went swimmingly, boss. They won’t even suspect our involvement.” 

“Good.” Comes the simple reply. “Do not forget what we’re here for. Your work will be done soon.” The man says. Arthur leans against the glass, eyebrows scrunched together. 

“There was this woman on Saturday night... she said my name.” The words slip out before he can stop himself. He decides to continue. “She was blonde...and pretty? I knew her, I think.” Arthur racks his brain for memories that he cannot seem to grasp. 

There are a few moments of silence before his boss replies. “She doesn’t matter right now. What matters is the mission. We don’t have time to think about your crushes.” He responds calmly with a hint of warning in his tone. Nevertheless, he persists. 

“But sir... I _knew_ her! And...and this other man...” He rubs his temple, as if by doing so, he will rediscover some memory of them. The phone remains silent for a long time. 

“If you continue down this path, there will be repercussions. Don’t make me regret sending you on this mission.” The man replies steadily. Arthur’s stomach drops and a fearful chill runs down his spine. 

His boss always means what he says. And he’s not so sure digging this up will be something good. 

“Duly noted.” He nods before hanging up. He runs a hand through his messy, dark hair before calling a cab. 

~~~ 

Arthur stares out the window in the back of the cab. The city lights illuminate the night; so familiar, yet so foreign at the same time. He can almost hear the beautiful English woman’s voice begging for him to stop. Her eyes were ocean blue, and on that night, he was drowning in them. She had distracted him completely, which is unlike him. He slowly drifts off to sleep. 

_~~10 years ago~~ _

Arthur sits at the table, sipping his coffee sleepily. Across from him sits Maxime, reading today’s newspaper. It is approximately _3:00am_, which in Arthur’s opinion, is insane. His beauty sleep is an art form that needs to be taken seriously around here. 

“The Kamizakis seem to be focusing their attacks on Brooklyn, but for some reason, I feel like they’re not the main problem.” Maxime sighs. 

Arthur perks up at that. “Don’t tell me that means the possibility of _more_ danger.” He whines, spinning in his chair gently. Maxime snorts in response, rolling his eyes. 

“Ok, you baby, I won’t.” He promises teasingly, earning a playful whack from Arthur. The door opens, causing both heads to turn. 

Charlotte Montgomery, beautiful as ever, strolls in with a mischievous smile. “Ok you two, are we going to get to work, or are you two just going to horse around?” She muses. 

Arthur’s heart flutters and he giggles. “You’re no fun!” He sticks his tongue out, causing Charlotte to give him an annoyed look. 

“I’m _plenty_ fun, Artie.” She fires back with a huff. 

Maxime clears his throat, causing both to look at him. “Are you two going to flirt all day, or are we going to talk about the Kamizakis?” He quirks his brow questioningly. 

Arthur’s face reddens considerably, and he opens and closes his mouth. He is unable to formulate a coherent sentence, though. Charlotte simply rolls her eyes, punching Maxime’s shoulder gently. 

“Let’s get back to work, shall we?” She crosses her arms, head cocked. Both nod their heads. She clasps her hands together. “Good.” She smiles, walking past them. 

She throws a wink in Arthur’s direction, causing heat to rise in his face. He gulps, looking at the floor. His heart races quickly, and the room feels unusually hot. 

Oh no... he thinks he might love her. 

_~~7 years ago~~ _

Arthur feels a wave of nausea wash over him as he stands over a dying agent. 

He hardly knew Agent Clint, but he was respectable enough. He had family, friends, and loved ones. Now, he lays on the hard concrete, blood gushing out of three gunshot wounds in the stomach. Arthur looks up at the man responsible for this man’s death, jaw clenched and hands shaking. 

The person who stands across from him is a tall, middle-aged man. He is of slender build, and his 5-o-clock shadow gives him a worn-down appearance. His hair is dark brown, and his eyes are a deep shade of blue. He looks as though a strong breeze could blow him away. Thankfully, His pistol is now too far for him to grab. 

“P-Put your hands up!” Arthur demands, voice quavering. He directs his pistol at the man, hands shaking. The man cocks his head calmly. “I said put your hands up!” He shouts again. 

Slowly, the man raises his hands in surrender. Arthur steps towards him slowly, heart beating insanely fast. He makes sure to never lower his pistol. The man eyes him curiously while Arthur examines him for any secret weapons. Nothing. All he notices is a snake pin attached to his coat pocket. It appears to be devouring its own tail, forming a circle. 

“I can help you, Agent Diaz.” The man, who has a thick Russian accent, speaks up finally. 

Arthur’s eyes widen, taken aback. He isn’t used to hearing promises when making an arrest. “How do you know my name?” He demands, pistol pointed between the man’s eyes. 

The Russian man blinks at him. “It is my business to know about the best, Agent.” He smiles charmingly. “And the best includes you.” Arthur slowly lowers his pistol. 

“Who are you, anyway?” He asks curiously. The man holds out his hand, causing him to raise his pistol again. 

“Alek. Alek Preobrazhensky.” He replies calmly. Arthur doesn’t shake it. 

“Are you one of the Kamizakis?” He asks. Alek laughs bitterly at him. 

“I am offended. No. I am not a Kamizaki.” He promises. 

Confusion floods through Arthur. “If you’re not a Kamizaki, then why are you here? And why did you kill Agent Clint?” He demands. 

A large smile spreads across Alek’s face, and he weaves his fingers together. His eyes glint murderously. “I’m stalling.”

_ Ping!_ A painful whack to the back of Arthur’s head causes his vision to swim. He sways slightly before finally crashing to the ground with a thump. 

~~~ 

Arthur’s head hurts when he wakes up tied to a chair. A gag is on his mouth, preventing him from speaking. His mouth feels dry and his head is swimming. He can’t think straight. He can barely make out an object sitting across the room. It appears to be a round box, which he assumes to be a record player. Currently, it is playing a distorted version of _“Ain’t That Just Like A Woman.”_ by Louis Jordan. 

Across from him sits a blurry figure that he can’t quite make out. His vision hasn’t quite returned yet, and he feels so dizzy he might throw up. His arm is covered in a bandage with a wire leading to some sort of machine. 

“I pray you had a delightful nap, Agent Diaz?” Alek’s muffled voice asks gently, walking towards him. 

Confused tears prick the corners of Arthur’s eyes as he looks around the room fearfully. He feels the tight gag around his face loosen before completely falling off.

“Where...Where am...?” His words slur together as he struggles to speak. 

“I want to know everything about your employers.” Alek states simply, straightening his posture.

Arthur shakes his head fervently, struggling to stay awake. “I... can’t...friends.” He furrows his eyebrows, biting his lip. The Russian man's lip twitches. 

"You'll regret saying no to me." He warns, voice dangerously low. 

Arthur whimpers in pain as he feels the man grab the back of his hair, yanking his head back. He is pretty sure he can feel his scalp bleeding from the action. 

"Who. _Are. _They?" He growls, tightening his grip on his hair. Arthur can hardly think straight, but he refuses to give them up. 

"Not....telling." He spits back with whatever strength he has left. 

He hears Alek laugh mockingly, releasing the grip on his hair. This causes Arthur to look up in surprise.

“Very well. Since you refuse to talk to me, you won’t be talking at all.” He hisses angrily, even though his expression is eerily calm. 

Dread fills in the pit of Arthur’s stomach as he hears a metallic scraping sound. “Wha-...what’s that?” He asks groggily before feeling harsh metal scrape against the corners of his mouth, digging into his flesh. 

A shriek of pain is soon muffled by the crude object strapped to his face. The object acts as some sort of muzzle due to the fact that he is now unable to speak. The tears he was struggling to prevent now break loose. All he can do now is cry. 

He almost doesn’t hear the door shut, leaving him in complete darkness. 

_~~4 Weeks Later~~ _

Arthur’s arms are chained to the wall and his shoulders are slumped in defeat. The damp smell in the room is one he will never forget. He’s not quite sure what day it is since he’s been fazing in and out of consciousness. He has a general idea of each day passing, but never the exact time. He wakes up and is questioned. He doesn't respond and is either whipped or drugged. Now, he can't quite remember life before that. The room being dark doesn’t help his lack of clarity. 

The door opens and his eyes narrow immediately at the light now filtering through the cell. Alek Preobrazhensky walks in, arms behind his back. Arthur remembers his name and his face, but not who he is to him. Something in his gut says that they weren’t friends. 

“Hello, Arthur.” He inclines his head in greeting before he covers his mouth in mock embarrassment. “Oh, I forgot, you can’t respond.” He walks over to him, causing him to flinch away. “I won’t hurt you.” He whispers quietly. 

Arthur relaxes slowly, allowing Alek to unlatch the muzzle. His skin feels raw and the cool air makes it sting painfully. He feels exposed with it off, as if it’s always been there. 

“Are you ready to tell me about your friends?” He asks steadily. 

Confusion floods through Arthur and he tilts his head slightly. “Fr...Friends?” He croaks weakly. A flurry of emotions passes through Alek’s face. Most of them are negative. 

“Do you remember me?” He cocks his head. 

Arthur racks his brain, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He stares at the man for a long time before slowly shaking his head. After a long moment of processing, the Russian man nods. 

“I rescued you. Your old friends tortured you for gain, but I’m here now.” He lays a gentle hand on his shoulder. Arthur instinctively flinches at his touch. 

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Alek promises, retracting his hand. “This world is sick. It’s dying, Arthur. But we can rescue it. _You_ can help me rescue it.” He smiles warmly. 

“Why...me?” He rasps. 

The man places his hands behind him, pacing the room. “Because of your potential, Arthur. Just follow my orders, and we can save this world. Save people like you.” He promises. “Nobody will ever take advantage of you again.” 

Arthur looks at the floor before nodding slowly. “Nobody will hurt me anymore...” he mumbles brokenly.

_ ~~Present Time~~ _

“Hey, buddy!” Arthur wakes up in a cold sweat, before making eye contact with his annoyed cab driver. The man’s eyebrow twitches. “You’re here.” He grumbles impatiently, holding his hand out. 

Arthur narrows his eyes at him before fishing out some long greens from his pocket. The cabbie gapes at the wad of cash before stuffing it away greedily. 

He walks out, feeling the cold breeze catching his dark hair. He stuffs his hands in his pockets to keep warm. Looking up at the sky, he lets the gentle snowfall hit his face. He remembers the sensation of snow, but never a specific moment for him to belong to. His brain doesn’t feel like his own. Almost as if it belongs to a different man. He turns to the left and sees a woman with curly blonde hair. 

Eagerness rushes through him as he stares at her. His heart races with anticipation, much to his confusion. He isn’t like this. The woman turns and glances at him before scowling and turning away. His stomach drops in disappointment. He isn’t quite sure what he expected to see. She almost reminds him of someone. Someone that was special to him at one point. Weird. He can’t seem to put a finger on _who_ though. 

Arthur shakes the thought from his head, remembering what his boss told him. He has a mission. A mission to save everyone from this poisoned world. A mission to balance the class system. To destroy evil, you must destroy good along with it. For one always breeds the other. He must be diligent. 

He must save them from themselves. Save people like him. 


End file.
